Endless Tomorrows In Finite Yesterdays
by Jhiz
Summary: A broken soul with an eternal curse reaches across the fabric of time in hopes of something. What the something is and what it ends up being are inevitably not the same. What was old is new and what is new is something all together different.
1. Chapter 1

Story Notes: Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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"Why have you come, Eternal One?" whispered the wind through the cool darkness of the rocky cave.

The being originally known as Buffy Anne Summers answered "lifetimes have passed."

"You are the last," the wind replied. "Or perhaps the first."

"I am the only."

"Lazarus remains," swirled on the chilled air.

"He sleeps and dreams of better times," she replied. "He has embraced the Well."

"Yet you remain? We are sorry, Eternal One, but you know we cannot help. We are but a memory. A whisper of the blessed past."

The Eternal One dropped gracefully to the cavern floor. She crossed her legs and rested her hands on her knees. She breathed deeply as she tried to gather her thoughts. A human mind could only hold so many thoughts and an eternity of lifetimes had overwritten so many times that she wasn't even sure what she was hoping to do by coming here. She was empty. Humanity was gone yet her curse remained.

"I seek a fold. A flicker really. I remember bits and pieces. Time before. I existed before the curse. I believe I could find my way through a fold to a time before eternity."

"You seek to shatter time? To end the world before you begin?"

The Eternal One shook her head. Destruction of the world was not her intention. She was not the Immortal. She would not seek to break humanity as Lazarus had in an ill-fated attempt to end his own existence. She wished only to find release for herself. The being rolled her head and closed her eyes. She hummed softly as she sorted through the forgotten pathways in her mind. As she had discovered hundreds of years ago when she found this hidden retreat, it was easier to think in this ancient place. The Eternal One did not remember why or how the cavern was created but she did remember that she had been coming here since before the last vampire dusted and before the fall of the last Hellmouth.

"Ratty-somethings... demons from another dimension. They hold the power of time. Distort and bend in our reality with their presence."

"Ugh, won't work. How would I get to their dimension in the first place. Did I ever know how to open a portal between worlds?"

The Eternal One scrunched up her face as she tried to capture the elusive thought. It was useless. All that remained was the image of green swirls and a strange bit of melancholy. The thought was gone and frustrating in its absence. The cursed female shoved away just one bit of pain in an existence overfilled with the same. She refocused on her purpose.

"Hmm... pods in the sky... flying ships... Ly... Ly... Lyterius... they claimed the engines of their ships moved through time as well as space to allow travel to distant planets in their shortened lifetimes."

The Eternal One sighed as she remembered that the Lyterius had become ill from a simple virus found on the Earth and banned the planet from travel in hopes of stopping the spread of the disease. Unfortunately, they were too late and the sickness swept through the entire alien species. They were now believed to be extinct.

"Oracles? Do they even exist any longer or did the turok hun kill them too? Can they even die or did they withdraw to the Powers? Useless Powers of a forgotten race," the human grumbled.

The immortal being shifted until she was laying on her back and staring at the tiny sparkles in rock ceiling. The lights twinkled much like the stars outside. She smiled and enjoyed the moment of peace before moving onto other thoughts. More possibilities flowed in and out of her mind. Each was considered and discarded as impossible or impractical. Suddenly, the Eternal One sat up.

"Shades and Shadows. Do the Q'narkian still hold the Circle?"

If she was remembering properly, the small demon race still practiced some forms of magic. In a world where magic died just as easily as races and cultures, few beings still possessed the ability to bend the Earth's energies to their own purposes. Perhaps they would have a way to access a temporal fold. She vaguely remembered that the race had not been able to lift her curse but perhaps this new idea would find fruit in their abilities.

The Eternal One smiled. She held fond memories of Q'narkians. They were not one of the more humanoid of creatures and their presence made her skin blister and her organs fail if she spent too much time in close proximity. She believed it was due to the radioactive elements they consumed as part of their diet. The damage from the exposures was one of her more painful physical experiences of the last millennium. Despite the hurt they caused her body, something about the Q'narkians filled her with such mental and emotional peace. Much like this cavern, there was something about the demon species that appealed to her. She could not remember why. They just made her feel happy. The associated memory may have been forgotten but the feeling still remained.

With the kernel of a plan germinating in her mind, the Eternal One stood. She wiped any dirt and debris from her pants and headed towards the entrance. Before she left the shelter of the mystical cavern, the immortal woman turned and bowed. She offered her thanks to those who went before for their sacrifice. It was a small courtesy but the cursed immortal feared the loss of the connection to this place. She would do all that she could to maintain this last memory of mankind.

With a grace that attested to her familiarity with the rugged trail from the cave to the forest floor, the Eternal One slipped down to her scoot. Her vehicle was old and battered but it still functioned. The hover-cycle worked from a combination of magic and technology. She feared the point with it stopped working because the Kistel who created it had been dead for over a century. He was yet another member of a race now extinct from the planet. Human, demon, animal, alien. They all came and went with a never ending passage of time. It was an unending dance to which the Eternal One's only partner was a cursed human who was just as lost as she and to whom she despised just slightly more than she yearned. Besides herself, he was all that remained of humanity and like herself, he too now lacked the same humanity that called to her.

These thoughts were an often repeated pattern and so the cursed woman thrust them aside to concentrate on her newest endeavor. She nurtured the tiny spark of hope even though she doubted it would last long enough to catch flame. None of her ideas ever did seem to grow to fruition when it came to escaping.

It took her a few minutes to recall how to program the navigator system so that it would direct her to the Circle. The tiny crystal began to glow and the eternal being flipped her right leg over the often patched seat and grabbed the scarf that she used to cover her face while riding. Placing her protective eye-wear and the material in place, she kicked the ignition. The scoot rose about two feet off the thick vegetation on the ground and then streaked forward.

Flashes of pleasure coursed through her body as the wind rushed past her body. Speed and battle still gave her a feeling of freedom and rightness that she was unable to find anywhere else. She would lose herself in the movement of her body or the burn of her muscles. Adrenaline surged and she laughed at the release. The navigator and autopilot system allowed for even greater speeds than even her enhanced reflexes allowed. The immortal very rarely utilized the autopilot and overdrive on the scoot though because she worried about burning out the engine. Unfortunately, she had little choice but to engage it for the trip to the Circle because even with the added speed and navigation assistance, it would take almost five hours to reach her destination.

Despite the eternity that stretched before her, the cursed woman possessed an impatience that had only gotten worse as she aged. As the opportunity for new experiences diminished, the excitement and anticipation for even the slightest bit of change was reason for celebration. This trip held the promise of an escape from the unending monotony of life. She could barely contain herself. Her thoughts were bouncing in rapid succession and her body buzzed. The Eternal One embraced the moment of joy and reveled in it.

Dusk had fallen by the time the immortal woman reached the large crater known as the Circle. She coasted to a stop and settled the scoot onto an outcropping near the giant crater. Time had washed out the huge depression with water and wind clearing the debris from another lifetime. The Eternal One hated the Circle. As expected, the desire to cry crept up on her. The Circle was a place of pain and loss no matter how many lifetimes passed. This remained no matter what memories she built; the pang in her heart always stayed. It was the beginning point. The Eternal One found it ironic that her salvation might be found at what she considered the heart of the problem.

The woman crept carefully down the edge of the crater and approached one of the metal and stone towers that surrounded the lake deep in the center of the Circle. She called out a series of clicks that denoted a friendly greeting in the Q'narkian's native language. Whenever possible, the Eternal One tried to speak to indigenous species in their native tongues. If she knew how, she used the communication to help maintain the skills of so many lives. In some instances, the languages in her head were the only thing that remained of some species.

An answering pattern of clicks echoed across the water. Baring her teeth and growling to show she held no hidden malice for the small, creeping being that exited its tower, the Eternal One waited patiently for the somewhat timid creature to approach her.

The Q'narkian were vaguely bird-like in appearance although instead of feathers they sported a rich, curling fur of the palest white. They had long tentacles to replace wings and their over-sized eyes were a brilliant blue as opposed to the black bead of a bird's eye. The clicking sounds emanating from the Q'narkian's beak were sharper and clearer than the popping and snapping that the cursed woman was able to produce with her teeth and tongue but they were similar enough to convey her sentiments. The small creature appeared honored that she chose to visit them. Even in species far removed from humanity, the Eternal One was a thing of legend.

The furry being approached and raised one of its leathery appendages towards the cursed woman. The tentacle rested for a moment against her face between her eyes and above her nose. Vivid images passed between the two beings as the Q'narkian utilized its primary form of communication to discover the reason for the visit. The human offered no resistance to the mental invasion and held still despite the slow peeling of her skin and dimming of her vision from the close contact. Her nose started to bleed and she began to feel tired. Waves of dizziness washed over her body and she shook slightly as the radiation began to effect her entire system.

The Q'narkian tapped her face affectionately one last time then withdrew its appendage. It wandered back into its home as the Eternal One staggered away from the tower. From their telepathic exchange, the immortal woman knew that it might have a spell to help her and that it would be prepared for her if she returned in a full moon cycle. The spell invoked both a temporal fold as well as a melding of mind, body and spirit. It was an elaborate endeavor and the telepathic being was excited at the chance to perform something from its dying art.

The cursed woman made it half way up the wall of the crater before the vomiting and violent shaking began. Moaning in agony, the Eternal One forced her body to crawl the remainder of the way in the darkness. When she reached her destination, she lay for a while as her body fought off the affects of the radiation exposure. She snorted at her desperation. Her vision was reduced to only faded shadows and her short, white hair started to fall from her body in clumps as sores raised across her skin.

"Bloody hell," she cried in the dead language of her original lifetime. She finally made it to her scoot and fumbled through the activation of navigation and autopilot. Fearing that she might lose consciousness before reaching her home, the Eternal One utilized the material she normally wrapped around her face as a restraint and tied herself onto the seat of the scoot. She didn't even bother with her protective eye gear. Nothing she hit could cause her as much damage as the exposure already had. Closing her eyes and resting her head on the control handles, the woman engaged the hover vehicle and whispered a sure to be ignored prayer to the disconnected Power that had once held sway in humanity's evolution. She kicked the scoot into gear and headed for home. She made it half way before she passed out.

As the sun was rising, the Eternal One pulled herself from the slumped position on the back of her hovercraft. The automatic door that protected the interior of her home slid closed behind her. She stumbled from the small utility area where she normally parked her scoot and made it into the comfort of her living area before losing consciousness once again.

Just shy of a month later, the Eternal One returned returned to the Circle. She had once more recovered fully from the exposure sickness but she was not looking forward to experiencing it again. The agony would be worth it though if the Q'narkian spell attempts worked. Although she started down the side of the crater, she paused in her descent when clicking stilled her movement. The excited Q'narkian scurried towards her hauling a large basket on its back. It motioned her back towards the level ground outside the Circle. She then followed the furry being to a large area that it had prepared for the ritual.

The Q'narkian reached out and touched the Eternal One for just a moment to convey the information it needed to explain about the spell. In turn, the cursed woman offered profound thanks both mentally and with a simple click of her teeth. The furry being waved her into the center of the intricately assembled pattern of repeating triangles and circles. The human knelt in the very center of the configuration while the spell-caster withdrew all the supplies it would need from the basket. Herbs, symbols scrolled within twisted metal pieces, crystals and a bone knife were laid on the ground.

With a flick of its tentacle, the Q'narkian tossed the dagger towards the cursed human. While it prepared the rest of the elements, the Eternal One sliced the dagger deeply across her hand before burying the blood covered weapon to the hilt into the earth between her knees. The human shifted and wrapped her injured hand around the bone hilt. Her blood flowed from the self-inflicted injury and onto the earth. She rested back on her heels and watched as the spell caster finished. She closed her eyes as the furry creature began to call and click in its native language with an almost melodic chant. She shivered. Her heart beat in time with the cadence of the spell and it felt like her blood pulsed not only in her veins but in the very earth itself.

For the first time in her recent memory, a churning apprehension erupted in the cursed human's chest. She barely remembered the feeling enough to properly identify it. It wasn't a fleeting pleasure, a momentary pain, a gripping sadness, a clawing rage, or even her almost all consuming apathy. This was new or, more precisely, old. As the magic collected around her and grasped at the very heart of her being, the Eternal One felt a frisson of fear.

"What have I done?" she mourned as the spell gobbled her life like a starving beast.

Waves of dizziness, more aggressive than the ones being near the Q'narkian caused, assaulted her body. Her shivers turned to seizures. The Eternal One collapsed. She lay on the ground as she shook. With each convulsion, she faded back and forth from view. The chanting continued as the shifting increased in frequency. The ritual reached its peak. The earth shuddered beneath the cursed woman then all fell silent.

"Good luck," the Q'narkian chirped into the now empty space beside the abandoned bone dagger.

Across an eternity of time but surprising very little space, the Eternal One felt her being brush against the tingling power of an alien presence. It pushed and prodded at her mental image of self as her body shrunk and expanded from a dense bit of cells to an infinite seeming scattering of essence. She pulsed and the alien presence fought against her arrival. It shoved and fought with a singular purpose though it felt like there was more than one consciousness behind the power. It rumbled in her brain and scratched at her body. Spirit, heart, mind and hand fought her coming but could not stand before the onslaught of the Eternal One's power or the subtle onslaught of the Q'narkian spell. It crumbled before her as she felt her expanded self contract into the containment of a shell that welcomed her home with open arms. Two minds, two bodies, two souls entwined then merged into itself.

She felt the gentle touch of a warm, soft hand touch her chin. Her eyes closed as the Eternal One, now joined and housed in her former self, collapsed into the arms of someone else. The spell was over and she was whole once more. For better or for worse, she was home.


	2. Chapter 2

Despite his injuries, Riley Finn caught his girlfriend as she slumped against his chest. A warmth swelled in his heart as he collected her delicate form in his arms and lifted her against his body. He loved the mental image the moment afforded him. It made him feel like he was the hero of one of the silly romance novels his mother was always reading. He not so secretly enjoyed the rush of holding Buffy safely. The soldier wanted to protect her from the world. He wished that she allowed him the pleasure more often. After all, it was how he had been raised. He was supposed to treasure the women he loved and Buffy was just the type of girl who deserved to be treasured.

The military man's train of thought was derailed when a finger tapped against his cheek.

"Although your arms are quite nice, I would appreciate if you returned my person to the ground," the Eternal One informed him.

"Buffy?" Riley questioned with a bit of confusion in his voice and expression. His girlfriend didn't sound quite like herself. It wasn't that her voice was wrong. It was more that the word choice and cadence were slightly off kilter. A shiver traveled up his spine. Perhaps it was an echoed reminder of Faith's visit in Buffy's body, but Finn definitely felt that something was wrong with the pretty blond in his arms.

Buffy's eyebrow rose questioningly as she repeated her request. She punctuated the second request by shaking her finger towards the ground.

"Um, yeah..." the soldier agreed as he gently placed the Slayer back on her feet. He kept his hands on Buffy's arms to make sure she didn't lose her balance again. A sharp sting pained in his chest as the girl he loved stepped abruptly out of his grasp without any type of acknowledgment to his assistance or even his presence.

Without a word, Buffy surveyed her surroundings. She remembered nothing about this place or about the cute human male who stood with her. His seeming familiarity made her a bit uncomfortable but it wasn't going to hurt her at the moment. It had been so long since she had any interactions with anyone human besides the Immortal. She fleetingly tried to remember if humans always touched so casually.

The Slayer weighed the situation and found her current position unhelpful. She frowned slightly as she wondered what she was supposed to do now. Without any type of reference, the Eternal One was uncertain how she should proceed. She didn't like the feeling. Just as her fear during the spell had surprised her, the feeling of uncertainty and confusion needled at her consciousness. She wasn't sure if she was enjoying the resurfacing of the long lost emotions or not.

"Buffy, are you okay?" Finn asked with clearly evident concern.

When the Slayer failed to respond to his question, Riley approached and touched her arm.

"Buffy?"

The simple touch drew her attention from her silent worries.

"Buffy?"

She tilted her head slightly.

"Oh... you are addressing me," she finally acknowledged a bit sheepishly. "Buffy. I am Buffy."

"Ah, yeah," Riley confirmed as a second course of panic rushed through his system. His girlfriend didn't seem to be recovered from whatever spell had been cast to assist her in her defeat of Adam.

"I think we should go find the others," the soldier prompted and the Eternal One nodded her head in agreement. She decided that perhaps more clues might trigger some ancient forgotten memory still hidden in her overtaxed mind. The Slayer allowed Riley to take her hand and lead her from the control room where Adam's body lay forgotten. She found it strange to have her palm pressed to another palm that felt so very similar to her own. It felt strangely wrong. The grip was too warm, too soft, and too possessive for her comfort. The Slayer pulled free from Riley's hold but continued to follow him through the dimly lit hallways. They rushed through the remaining secret section towards the main area of the Initiative. The Eternal One continued to scan the rooms but nothing seemed remotely familiar to the displaced Slayer.

In less than five minutes, the pair pushed free the barricaded door from the secret laboratory section for project 314. They entered the dimly lit outer room and were immediately greeted by Giles, Xander and Willow. The three Scoobies were charged and excited by the residual magic from the enjoining ritual.

The redhead rushed forward for a hug. "Wasn't it amazing?" she gushed as she threw her arms around Buffy.

The Eternal One recoiled from the embrace as a shaking fury and hatred enveloped her. Although she had no reference for the emotional onslaught, the feelings overwhelmed her. For a moment, a red blanket of rage descended over her consciousness. The rush caused her muscles to shake and her breath to catch. With a purely instinctive reflex of self-preservation, the Slayer pushed Willow farther from her body. The redhead stumbled into Xander who had been adding his own congratulations into the greeting.

Buffy's friends reacted with confusion and a bit of hurt feelings at her less than welcoming reaction to their overtures.

"Buffy?" Giles questioned when he noticed the Slayer's strange response to her friends. He had been expecting the teen's normal exuberance and pride at the defeat of their latest powerful enemy. That Buffy appeared on the verge of attacking her best friend caused him instant concern.

Riley opened his mouth to explain that he thought something was really wrong with his girlfriend. Not having been part of the infiltration plan, the soldier wasn't fully aware of the enjoining spell. He only knew that Buffy seemed different. Of course, the demonic eyes when he first arrived in the lab helped to clue him into the situation. Before Riley could comment, a soft giggle erupted from the Slayer. She took three steps to the side and snapped her hand forward faster than a human eye could easily follow.

Her vampire target didn't have an issue seeing the attack. Spike flinched as he expected the traditional blow to the nose. He unconsciously closed his eyes but immediately opened them when no pain erupted in his face. Instead, he felt Buffy's hand dive into his slicked back hair. The startled vampire straighten as her fingers knocked free his curls and thoroughly mussed his hair. Curls and spikes replaced the firmly gelled helmet.

"Q'narkian," the Eternal One chuckled as she pulled free her hand only to gently rest it on the side of his cheek while she stared into the vampire's vivid blue eyes that perfectly matched the eye color of the radioactive race whose magic made it possible for her to return to the beginning. For a heartbeat the vampire and Slayer stared at each other before Spike pulled his face away from the warm palm of Buffy's hand. As he shifted away, her fingers trailed down his neck, past his shoulder and over his leather covered arm. The tactile sensation of the supple leather cemented the memory of the future demon's tentacle in her mind. The Eternal One smiled. Perhaps this individual was the reason for her unexplained enjoyment from interacting with the radioactive species. She looked forward to investigating that potential.

"Uh, Watcher, think you broke your Slayer," the confused vampire commented as he took yet another step back to relative safety. He glanced over his shoulder though when a high pitched screech outside the door was followed with the rapid fire of automatic weaponry. Given where they were hiding, safe was not really an easily accessible commodity at this point.

"Perhaps we should consider a rapid retreat?" Giles suggested as he moved his attention from Spike to Buffy to the open door.

Riley winced but agreed. There were still other soldiers facing death at the hands and teeth of rampaging demons. They would need to save as many humans as possible. After the battle, they could try to discover what was causing the uncomfortable changes in his girlfriend. The soldier just hoped that it would be easy to fix. When Spike threw in his own overly enthusiastic support of the plan to save the remaining soldiers, the others gave him strange looks but didn't disparage his offer.

The Eternal One glanced about the room and quickly assessed the potential merits of the assembled individuals.

"Can you find an exit?" she demanded of Giles.

Although he was startled by the demand, he nodded.

She turned to Riley. "Will the other soldiers follow you?"

He too nodded.

"Protect their backs," she ordered Xander and Willow who flinched at the commanding tone but nodded in agreement just like the other two. There was a firm force behind the Slayer's directions that didn't allow them any time or room to question the charges.

The Eternal One moved towards a metal cart along the wall. She kicked it and the end shattered into pieces. She yanked free one of the metal poles. After a quick test of its strength, she turned to the vampire. "Help me clear a path?"

Spike grinned widely. The vampire didn't need to nod. The Eternal One correctly read his answer as he bounced on his toes in anticipation.

The Slayer tossed the metal staff towards him and he deftly caught it with his left hand. She noted his dominant side as an asset to her own fighting strength before she ripped free a second metal staff for herself. With deadly grace, she moved towards the sounds of chaos outside the laboratory doorway. She glanced back at the humans.

"Don't die," she simply ordered before she turned to skewer the demon in the doorway with her impromptu weapon. With a grin that seemed to mirror Spike's expression of anticipation, the Eternal One moved into battle with the vampire at her left side. They were immediately engaged by enemies. It took only a few moments for the Eternal One to read her companion's skills. He danced into battle with a combination of skill and enthusiasm that made the Slayer smile. Once she was sure that Spike could hold his own, she turned all her attention to wiping the attacking demons from existence.

With a grace and efficiency of motion, the Eternal One slaughtered every opponent who unfortunately stumbled into her path. Behind her, Riley gathered scattered soldiers and scientists into a makeshift unit. Although some of the armed men offered sporadic cover fire, the soldiers mostly found themselves in the position of collecting and assisting injured members of the Initiative towards the closest exit. Xander, Willow and Giles also fell easily into the roles of rescue aides.

Riley had just assisted a barely conscious science technician into Giles' arms in his position at a forced open elevator shaft when his friend Graham bumped into his shoulder. The soldier was thrilled to see at least one of his close friends in his previous unit still alive.

"Glad to see you in one piece," Miller mentioned as he scanned the large open area. His stun gun leveled across the room as he watched for any unexpected enemies. The commando's eyes followed to the Slayer's swirling motions as she completely knocked the head from the shoulders of an oversized, green-scaled demon.

"Good God, your girlfriend is beyond scary." his friend muttered to Finn in fearful awe. The commando was suddenly very happy that only his pride had been injured when Buffy had taken on their squad with little issue. If she had faced the soldiers with the skill and strength she was showcasing, none of them would have survived.

Riley followed Graham's gaze and shuddered. He had never seen Buffy fight with such viciousness or with such joy. The grin on her face was almost a feral snarl. In that moment, the commando had to agree with his friend. Buffy was scary and he felt a bit lost and insignificant in the wake of the realization. Vicious and scary were not words he wanted to associate with his lover. She was supposed to be soft and sweet underneath her Chosen status. He didn't like this new facet of the Slayer. Turning back to his assigned duty with a heavy heart, the soldier shoved aside his fear and revulsion and concentrated on helping the remaining survivors escape.

Across the huge room, the Eternal One ripped the antler off a yellow furred demon. She then flipped the hardened appendage and drove the monster's horn into its own chest. Luckily, she remembered that it was the only sure way to kill the thing since she did not have a blessed sword to stab it in the heart. She stepped back from the falling body and surveyed the underground battlefield. A few yards to her left, Spike was fighting fist and fangs against a large demon with four arms. He had lost his metal staff somewhere along the way but it wasn't hampering the vampire's abilities. A quick scan showed the Slayer that there were no other immediate threats so she stood for a moment and watched the vampire's violent dance. The ancient warrior hummed in appreciation although she noticed a few flaws in the bleach blonde's attacks. With a grin, she resolved to show him a few moves to correct the minor openings.

Believing that Spike had his battle well in hand, the Eternal One turned her back on the fight. She frowned when she noticed the movement of a small creature cowering behind the flat tire of one of the Initiative jeeps. The Slayer dropped to her knees and crawled towards the frightened demon. She made eye contact with it before starting a series of popping sounds with her lips. The soothing call could barely be heard over the chaos but the small demon shifted a bit closer to her. With a hiss, the frightened demon appeared to deflate half of its size until it resembled the mass and appearance of a small scaled lemur. The tiny demon hesitantly called to the Eternal One with its own gentle popping sounds. The Slayer once more verbally coaxed the demon to leave its hiding place. She held out her arm towards it and the demon scurried towards her.

Tiny claws scrambled across the skin of her arm as the demon clamored up to her shoulder. It wrapped its prehensile tail around her neck and buried its claws in her hair to help hold itself in place on her shoulder. The Eternal One cooed softly at the demon as she stood. In response, the small creature relaxed against her and rested its small head against her ear. Its body vibrated gently as it returned the contented sound.

Having collected the small demon, the Eternal One moved back across the room. Halfway to the elevator shaft, she encountered one last enemy who dropped from a girder on the ceiling. Without even losing her stride, she quickly dispatched it and joined Spike who had just ripped the head off his multiple armed opponent. He crowed loudly and bounced in uncontainable joy over the exhilaration fight.

She offered the vampire a compliment on his battle skills as she motioned for him to move towards the dwindling group of humans by the open elevator shaft. Instead of following her direction, Spike stared at her with his mouth hanging slightly open.

"Um, Slayer," he hesitantly said as he took a slight step backwards. "You do realize you have an adgillmun on your shoulder."

The warrior frowned slightly. She didn't remember that particular name but it was similar enough to the one she recognized to make the simple leap of understanding.

"Oh, a gilly," she confirmed with a nod. It had been hundreds of years but the Eternal One did remember having a series of gillies for pets. Although dangerous in their own way, the little demon species was a bit like a dog in personality. They were loyal and protective to those who cared for them.

"Obviously, I know it's there," the Eternal One stated with a grin. She raised her hand and ran a finger down the cool scales on the side of the demon's head. She cooed at it again before she stepped towards the vampire.

Clearly nervous, Spike took another step backwards to maintain a safe distance from the Eternal One and her little passenger. For every step closer to the elevator that the Slayer took, Spike took just as many backwards. He didn't want anywhere near the little demon who seemed to be happily curled around Buffy's neck. The vampire shivered. Adgillmum seemed like skittish and harmless little pests but they actually had a necrotic venom that oozed from between their teeth. Much like a Komodo monitor, its serrated teeth would shake and work the potent substance into the victims tissue. What worried the vampire was that unlike most venomous attacks, the adgillmum's bite affected not only humans but also the undead. One bite would slowly rot away a vampire's body until the demon dusted. It was a slow and very painful way to die.

"Uh, Slayer... Don't you think there might be a safer place for your new pet? Like on the other side of the Initiative. Not thinking having it near your face is the best place for it."

Spike bumped into the wall and glanced nervously towards the exit. All the still living Initiative personnel had evacuated and only Finn and Giles remained in the open shaft. The vampire slid through the opening. He looked over his shoulder one more time to watch the Slayer's approach.

"Watcher, think you might want to tell your girl to drop the demon before it eats her face," he warned before grabbing one of the elevator cables and fleeing rapidly up the shaft. He made the climb look easy even in the more critical eyes of the military personnel who was trained in similar skills. Jealousy and disgust warred in Finn's gut at the ease of the vampire's escape. The two remaining male humans would need to wait for the others to send back down the ropes and proper climbing gear before they could escape.

Rupert and Riley watched the vampire's quick retreat for only a moment before turning back to Buffy. She had her back to them though as she blocked an attack from yet another demon who had found its way into the huge room. After deflecting the blow with her left forearm, the Slayer struck the demon in the neck with a spear hand strike. The force of the punch drove her fingers deep into its throat. The demon fell with its eyes rolling back in its head and its hands raised to the gaping wound. As she pulled her hand from the wound, the Eternal One tore free a bit of the flesh and offered it to the gilly on her shoulder. The demon cooed happily as it grabbed the snack with one hand. It maintained its precarious position by tightening its lower claws on the Slayer's shirt and more firmly latching her neck with its tail.

Unconcerned by the black gore coating her hand or the demon chewing nosily by her ear, the Eternal One turned to her remaining companions.

"Everyone has safely evacuated?" she asked before she dropped down the couple feet to the bottom of the elevator shaft. Landing lightly on the balls of her feet, the Slayer raised a protective hand to keep the demon on her shoulder from losing his perch.

Warily, Giles and Finn watched the Slayer's disregard of any danger from her demonic passenger. When they also suggested she dispose of the little demon, she frowned slightly and informed them that it was not hurting anyone and needed saved just as much as the humans that they had wanted to aid. Her casual dismissal of the advice could have led to a serious argument if the climbing gear had not slithered down at that moment. The Eternal One had only raised her eyebrow and prodded them into leaving since she didn't know if anything else might crawl out of the woodwork to attack them. Unhappily, the Watcher and the Soldier followed her suggestion. With the assist of the military equipment, they ascended into the darkness of the upper shaft.

Like the vampire before her, the Slayer ignored the climbing equipment lowered to assist in her ascent. Instead, she jumped and caught hold of the main cable and climbed sedately while watching for attacks from below their retreat. She reached the top of the elevator shaft without any further incident. When she confirmed that she was the last one to leave, two Initiative soldiers pulled grenades from their belts, activated them and dropped them down the shaft. They hoped to seal the exit in case any demons remained alive in the base below. The explosions rumbled from inside the shaft and the earth shook slightly.

The Eternal One stepped away from the no longer hidden elevator shaft and into a small clearing. Unlike the Initiative entrance from the Lowell house that easily blended into the dorm, this one was placed near a private access road in the woods behind the campus. Two military ambulances sat off to the side of the dirt road while a third one was pulling away en-route to the small nearby base to provide medical intervention for the most severely injured members of the Initiative.

Turning from the injured humans, the Slayer moved towards the sounds of conflict near the edge of the woods. No matter how displaced in time and place, the Eternal One knew her skills for dealing with confrontations far exceeded her abilities related to healing. She was naturally drawn towards the next potential danger. The impending conflict simmered only a step away from eruption. Along the treeline, Xander shoved at Spike as he accused him of plotting against them. The vampire staggered and bumped into Willow. She shoved at him too as Riley approached and added his own accusations. The disgruntled soldier shared how Spike had been working with Adam in hopes of having his chip removed.

"You didn't need to go to Adam," Riley stated maliciously. "I can help you with that chip problem."

The commando pulled a stake from his pocket and moved to dust the battered yet still defiant vampire. The wooden weapon angled towards Spike's chest only to be halted a few inches from its target. All eyes focused on the firm hand that grabbed Finn's arm and stopped the attack.

"If attacking ones allies is how you deal with stress, I should have left you below as demon bait," the Eternal One delivered with a deadly calm. With a minimal effort, she disarmed Riley of his stake and shoved him away from Spike. The soldier stumbled and landed on his butt in the grass. He glared up at his girlfriend but she had already turned her attention elsewhere.

"Thank you for your assistance in battle," she offered to Spike. She accompanied the acknowledgment with a soft smile and a wink.

Utterly flummoxed, the vampire nervously nodded while shifting his gaze between the Slayer and the demon still clinging to her shoulder. At the moment, Spike wasn't sure which was scarier: the adgillmum or the strangely acting Slayer. When the blond's hand snapped out and grabbed his sleeve and prevented his attempt at a timely retreat, the vampire decided the Slayer won.

"Uh, okay, Buff, so its a no to dusting Evil Undead?" Xander stated as he reached out to offer Riley a hand to stand. Disgruntled, the soldier took the offer. He stood and opened his mouth to confront Buffy on her behavior but once again he was interrupted. This time, an officer approached him and informed him that he needed to report for a debriefing in half an hour.

"No post apocalypse party for you," Xander teased Riley as he slipped an arm around Willow. He gave his friend a quick hug while promising they would have some fun for him too.

The Eternal One turned towards the others as they asked how they were going to celebrate. Despite the change in her attention, she didn't release Spike's arm. Her hand clenched nervously against the leather over his forearm.

"I am tired. I really don't think a party is in my near future. You are welcome to celebrate if you wish," the Slayer informed everyone else as she rolled her neck slightly and resisted the urge to release Spike and rub her badly bruised left forearm. She was sure to have muscle pangs for the rest of the night after the battle.

Assuming that her opinion would be respected without question, the Eternal One turned from the humans and tugged the vampire towards the road.

"You will walk me home," she informed the vampire as she dragged him a bit unwillingly away from the shocked Scoobies. The Eternal One hoped that the vampire would show her where she lived without her needing to actually admit that she didn't know where she was going to sleep. Wrapped up in her own concerns about hiding her merged self, she never glanced back at her friends. She missed their worried expressions and hushed whispers about something seriously being wrong with Buffy. Although they had defeated Adam with their combined essences, they now feared that something had seriously gone wrong with the enjoining spell. Because they were not suffering any strange affects, they were hard pressed to speculate what exactly went wrong. It had seemed to work perfectly from their side of the ritual.

Once they had left the bustle of military clean up, the Slayer released the vampire's arm. They walked in silence through the trees until the only sound to be heard was the purring wheeze of the gilly still happily nestled against the Slayer's neck and burrowed in her hair.

"So how serious of a head injury does it take to totally alter a Slayer's personality?" the vampire finally asked when he could not stand the quiet uncertainty any longer.

"Huh?"

Spike tapped his own forehead in the area where the Slayer currently sported a still bruised cut.

"Just wondering why you're wandering through the woods with yours truly instead of whooping it up with your toy soldier and your mates?"

A slight frown marred the Eternal One's face.

"What cause have I to... whoop?"

Spike stopped walking.

"See, that's another thing," he accused in frustration. "Have you gone completely Carrot-top?"

The Slayer tilted her head questioningly which only caused her companion to sigh. She obviously had no clue what he meant and he suspected that she should at least get his pop culture reference. He waved his hands wildly in her direction.

"This. This is not right," he insisted. "You should be out partying with your little gang of white hats not... not keeping your chipped enemy from getting staked by your boy toy and certainly not carrying around a deadly demon on you shoulder like a bloody parrot."

Spike stalked about in a tight circuit. His frustration and fear were obvious in his every movement. Even though the vampire often acted spontaneously, he still preferred to understand what was happening around him. He liked knowing the Slayer well enough to predict her behaviors. Since the start of their battle retreat from the underground base, her every movement and word seemed less like the Slayer he knew and more like an alien pod person. He knew something was wrong and whatever was wrong made him more than a bit nervous.

"And this whole mature thing you suddenly have going. What the hell is that?" Spike accused.

"Perhaps it was time for growing up?" the Slayer countered evenly.

Spike stopped moving and stared intently at his companion.

"Your Scoobie Snacks were doing some kind of spell. Are you possessed?"

The Eternal One smiled.

"In a manner of speaking," she admitted with an enigmatic quirk of her lip.

Spike took an unconscious step backwards. The Eternal One sighed.

"I am the Slayer that you knew," she promised. Technically, she wasn't lying. In the back of her mind, she knew that she was this specific person originally. She just didn't remember being Buffy. She worked to ease Spike's stress. "I have just gained a bit more insight into the workings of the world than I had a few hours ago."

"So, you're possessed."

The Eternal One snorted and shook her head.

"No. I am Buffy," she stated with a certainty that yet again allowed no room for argument. Wisely, the vampire took the better part of valor and didn't jump back into the verbal scuffle. Instead, he nodded his concession.

"In that case, _Buffy_ ," he replied with a strange emphasis on the name that the Eternal One noticed but didn't understand. "Let's get you home to your mum."

The Eternal One froze in place as an unexpected warmth bloomed in her tummy. A warm home and any type of mother figure were not concepts she had enjoyed in ages. A joyful smile grew across her lips. In her exuberance, the Slayer reached out and looped one of her arms around Spike's arm as if they were best friends.

"Home and mum sounds wonderful," she replied with an almost affectionate squeeze on the vampire's arm.

Still nervous, Spike glanced sideways at the now self-proclaimed Buffy. Even in the dim light, she seemed to glow with an almost rabid joy he had never seen her posses. He sneaked a peek at the demon still clinging to the Slayer's neck. It was still happily chewing its bit of flesh and cooing in the Slayer's ear.

Suppressing a shudder, the vamp again set out with their destination in mind. For once, he showed restraint though. He kept his snarky comments about the Slayer claim to being perfectly normal to himself. He smirked as she squeezed his arm again. Her hand was warm and firm against the play of muscles under his sleeve. Her grip had a possessive edge that intrigued him. He decided not to rock the boat. The vampire had a sneaking suspicion he was going to like this rendition of Buffy a lot more than the previous one.


	3. Chapter 3

"Willow, can you bring me the Perrison Annual?" Giles requested as he waved his hand towards a pile of books stacked in the corner of his disorganized flat. There had been no time for the former Watcher to address the mess before their infiltration of the Initiative and there were more pressing matters on his mind at this point. The older man covered a yawn as he flipped rapidly through pages of his current publication without even checking to see if the college student actually followed his request.

Willow sighed but moved from her spot on the couch where she was rapidly scanning a magic tome for something that might explain the strange behavior Buffy exhibited after the Enjoining spell. She passed Xander who was staring blankly at a page of yet another spell book. The redhead gently squeezed his shoulder in friendly support as she moved near him. Although the young man was closer to the haphazard library, it made more sense for Giles to ask Willow to dig through the collection. She stood a better chance of finding what the Watcher wanted in a more timely fashion.

As expected, it took only a few minutes of shifting old books for Willow to uncover the requested annual. She handed it over to the flustered researcher and returned to the couch. She had just found her spot on the page when a flurry of pounding interrupted her once again. Sighing, Willow stood back up and headed towards the door because she knew neither male was going to answer it. Giles was too caught up in research mode and Xander was zoned to the point of almost being asleep. Willow glanced at her friend and noticed his eyes were fighting to stay open. With a soft snicker, she gave him three minutes before his head was tilted back and he was snoring.

Reaching the door, Willow peeked out to make sure it was safe to open. The darkest hours of the night were not the safest time to be opening a door in Sunnydale. Despite the ruckus on the door, it wasn't something seeking to harm them. Unlocking the door, she swung it open just as Riley started another round of pounding.

Without any greeting, the soldier pushed past the redhead and stormed into the apartment.

"You have to fix whatever is wrong with Buffy," he demanded without preamble. The soldier shivered as he considered the vicious joy the Slayer had shown during the battle at the Initiative. It had obviously not been the sweet and friendly Buffy that he had known for the past couple months. He desperately hoped that they could fix whatever had so drastically changed his girlfriend. She had frightened the soldier and that was an unacceptable feeling.

The three researchers gazed at him in annoyance. They had been attempting to do just that for the past two hours while he was dealing with the military. His assistance in evacuating the survivors in the secret military base may have bought him a forgiving stance from the brass but it wasn't helping his case with the Scoobies. Despite his time as a commando, Riley seemed to forget that dealing with the supernatural wasn't math class. Instant answers were not just a question of simple, logical steps.

"Of course," muttered Giles with all the not so subtle irritation that he could level into his British accent. "Why didn't we think about that?"

Riley frowned for a moment before he realized that the three Sunnydale residents were already addressing the issue to the best of their abilities. It might not be in the manner he would prefer but at least they were concerned. Riley found action better than books but he was happy the Scoobies were showing an equal concern for Buffy's strange behavior. They had to be just as concerned at her bizarre battle reaction as well as her unexpected defense of Spike. He wasn't even going to begin to consider the ugly little monster she had saved from the base. He shuddered when he pictured the demon wrapped around his pretty girl's neck.

"Think I should go and check on her? Maybe get her seen by one of the army docs?" the soldier offered as he glanced a bit nervously at the large pile of books on the table. It wasn't that he didn't know how to research; he just didn't think the answers would be found in dusty old books. Despite his military history fighting demons, he had more faith in science than superstition.

Xander's eyes narrowed as he glared at the soldier.

"Oh yeah... let's trust the army docs with our friend. The same guys who were shoving drugs in their own soldiers and cutting up demons to make super-monsters. Oh yeah... also the same folks who tried to kill her in a sewer. Let's just offer them the Slayer on a silver platter. Now that sounds like a better than great idea."

Xander paused for a moment before continuing.

"That was me being sarcastic. Just in case in all my one with tiredness that I wasn't able to get that across loud and clear."

He slammed shut the book that he had been staring at for the past half hour.

"This is getting us nowhere," he grumbled.

"I don't even think this one is in English," Harris lamented as he tossed the useless book towards the pile.

Giles cringed as the tome hit a stack and tumbled the old books in all directions.

"Perhaps we should take a break. Get some rest and return with fresh eyes in the morning... er, later today. It is likely we will find some bit of information or direction after a good nights' sleep that our tired eyes and brains are missing," the previous Watcher suggested. "Fresh eyes may prevail in the matter."

Willow suddenly stood up. The book that had been on her lap clattered to the floor which caused Rupert to flinch once again. His poor research library had been taking quite the beating lately. He wasn't sure who was harder on them. Invading demons bent on apocalypses or his former students. He was leaning towards the Scoobies.

"OH!" the redhead exclaimed as she waved her hands in an excited manner. "Fresh eyes! Maybe that's what we need."

No one else seemed to share her enthusiasm so Willow calmed down and offered the reason for her excitement. She beamed with pride as she explained that it might be a good idea to have Tara take a peek at Buffy to see if she could read what was happening. The redhead reminded everyone about how her girlfriend had noticed that Buffy wasn't herself when Faith had hijacked her body. With growing gaiety that momentarily pushed back her exhaustion, Willow expanded on how Tara could see auras and that she might be able to determine if something had possessed their Slayer.

"She should be able to see if something is influencing Buffy. Maybe what she reads will help us develop a plan to fix the problem."

"Excellent plan, Willow," Giles confirmed as he set aside his book and removed his glasses. The eye wear dropped to the table before the older gentleman moved to usher the younger folks from his flat. Xander and Willow followed his direction as if it were second nature.

Riley protested that they needed a more immediate plan but still found himself shuffled out the door by the overly tired Brit. Frustrated at how he kept being pulled and pushed aside tonight, the soldier stared at the closed door for a moment. When he turned, he realized that Willow and Xander had left without him. He shook his head at their foolishness. Wandering around Sunnydale without someone to protect them seemed like a fool-hearty thing. The military man failed to acknowledge that the two Scoobies were veterans of surviving the Hellmouth. Disgruntled and unsure of how to address his concerns about his girlfriend, the soldier did what he had been taught to do. He strode purposefully towards his vehicle in order to meet his former unit and see if they had any orders to follow in the wake of the Initiative fall. Riley needed something constructive to do and the military held more promise for activity to ease his worried mind and heart.

* * *

Buffy created a nest of clothes from the dirty laundry basket and settled the gilly in the center. The cooing demon kneaded the pile a bit like a cat before curling itself into a circle and tucking its long tail around its body. The Eternal One smiled and ran her fingers softly over its smooth scales. The Slayer had always thought her pet gillies had felt like a cross between a snake and a frog. The creatures had the dry scales like the slinky reptiles but not the muscle mass moving underneath. The gillies musculature were more like amphibian bodies. They were soft and squishy under their scales. It was why you had to touch them gently to avoid injuring their delicate bodies. The ease of causing injury was also why they were considered so very dangerous. If you were not careful with them, they would bite to protect their fragile bodies and the bites were not only excruciatingly painful but also deadly in most cases.

After one last stroke along the demon's curled back, the Slayer stood. She stretched with her hands in the air and rolled her head to loosen the muscles in her neck. The battle in the underground base had been relatively brief but intense. The few hours of battle were nothing compared to some of the epic ones she had faced in her eternity of life. Her muscles still protested the strain of this simple one though. Her previous body did not seem to handle the after-battle harshness as well as her future one would. It was a concern she would need to address. Better workouts and care would be a new priority.

She sighed then crawled into the double bed. Buffy pulled the blanket over her body and settled into her pillow. Her contentment leaked out in the form of yet another sigh. It had been well over a thousand years since the Eternal One had slept in a bed. Her enviro-pod had survived well past its warranty and had provided her with a safe, perfectly monitored surrounding for sleeping but there was a warmth and comfort to a bed and blankets that she had missed. She just hoped that she didn't wake up with a crick in her neck. That was the only true joy of the pods. They suspended the sleepers body perfectly so that there were no strains on the bones or muscles.

Buffy rolled and pulled the sheets over her head. She breathed deeply. The gentle scent of lavender fabric softener and the pseudo-security of the blankets lulled her to sleep with hopes of sweet dreams of a new promise on life.

In their own beds, the Scoobies also fell under the weight of their exhaustion. They slept. Sneaking into the conscious of the three enjoining spell casters, the essence of the first slayer stalked through their dreams. Each nightmare highlighted the fears and insecurities of the dreamer. The ancient spirit hunted the three until finally capturing their essences in retribution for their touching and using her strength despite their lack of Calling.

Just like Giles, Willow and Xander, Buffy also had the spirit attempt to shatter her within her dream.

The Eternal One rolled over and clutched her pillow against her chest as she started to dream. In the recesses of her active mind, her eyes opened to find herself in another bed. It was a hotel room where she had stayed for quite a long period of time before the cataclysm that ended humanity. She frowned. Across the room, a young woman that the dreaming woman vaguely remembered as being one of the last humans she had protected was hiding under the covers and begging her to wake up.

"I just went to sleep," Buffy insisted. "You have been dead for thousands of years but my body still needs to rest," she informed the young woman before shifting in the bed to face the ceiling. For a moment, the primal spirit of the first slayer screeched at the dreamer from her position hanging above the bed.

"I know you," the Eternal One informed the spirit right before the dream flickered. Dream Buffy awoke in her future bedroom. She slipped from the enviro-pod and glanced around the room.

"I left you behind," Buffy insisted as she glared at the walls of her bunker. Little bits and pieces of forgotten lifetimes sat on shelves and gathered dust. She reached out and ran her finger down the side of a delicately carved crystal in the shape of a langaloor demon. A sense of disquiet and anger sneaked into her body. She had no desire to return to this lost existence. Angered, she snatched the laser cut bit of art with all its intricate tentacles and she flung it towards the wall. The crystal shattered on impact leaving behind only chips and fragments of the previously beautiful sculpture.

The dream flickered again and the Eternal One found herself standing across the room from where she had fallen asleep. The unmade bed sat highlighted in sunlight but Buffy knew she was still dreaming because her newly acquired pet was no where to be found. In fact, no demon signatures greeted her change of location. She tilted her head and shrugged. Turning to leave, Buffy noticed another human woman that she did not recognize standing nearby. Although she did not know Tara, the Slayer offered the girl a soft smile. She then blinked The Eternal One inhaled and shivered as goosebumps rose on her arms and legs.

"Peace and serenity to have and to hold," the Slayer offered the visitor as she recognized something familiar about her new companion. Tara's magic aura brushed against Buffy. She knew how this magic felt. It was the living and breathing version of the whispers that touched her when she went to the memory cave.

"You are not the one she seeks," the dream companion stated with a confused frown.

"Should I know you?" the Eternal One questioned.

"One time you did. You knew this form as Tara McClay. I was borrowed to I act as light in her darkness."

The room flashed once again and Buffy now stood in the cavern where she went to meditate and embrace the last thread of humanity. The cave hummed with a magical resonance that pulsed in synchronicity with the spirit guide. Above them, the crystals glowed stronger than the Slayer had ever seen them. They bathed the two women in a brilliant blue light.

"You are not what we expected."

Buffy shrugged.

"I get that a lot," she flippantly returned.

"Is she lost forever?" the dream Tara inquired.

"She is me and I am she," the Eternal One replied evenly as if repossession of a past body were an every day occurrence.

Dream Tara frowned because there was no trace of the Slayer's body housing two entities as she had expected.

"Why are you here?" Buffy asked of the dream witch.

"I thought to be a guide, but I think you know what you are. What she shall become."

The Eternal One grimaced. She did know what was to come and she would give anything to avoid becoming lost again. Growling with frustration, Buffy turned from the cavern and her dream companion. There would be no answers here and her patience was running low. The scene once more changed.

She now stood on the deck of a space station. She could feel the pull of the artificial gravity that kept her feet on the floor. It was an uncomfortable tugging that had always made her feel queasy. It was why the Slayer had chosen to avoid space travel when afforded the opportunity. On her one and only trip, she had made it as far as the destined to fail Mars colony before deciding that she needed to return to Earth.

"Stupid space ships," she muttered in annoyance as she stalked down the corridor. Buffy rounded a corner and noticed a shattered hole in the metal wall across from the juncture. Curiosity piqued, the Eternal One moved towards the hole and glanced inside. Joyce Summers greeted her from the cramped bit of space behind the wall.

"Mom?" The Eternal One recognized the woman who had greeted and welcomed her home after the battle. She had hugged her daughter in delight that she was safe despite the previous battle. Even though she remembered only the concept of a parent and not the actual person, the woman had further cemented her place in the Slayer's affection when she had offered Buffy and Spike some hot cocoa and snacks. Buffy had found it comfortable and easy to be herself in the warm kitchen. The two warriors had shared their renditions of the Initiative fall and Joyce had been enthralled and thrilled that they chose to share with her.

"Oh, hi, Honey," Joyce greeted as if she wasn't prisoner inside a space station that wouldn't exist for hundreds of years.

"Why are you trapped in the walls?" Buffy asked with a twinge of confusion. She didn't understand why the poor woman would be stuck there.

"Oh, no, Sweetie. I'm not trapped. I am fine here," her mother replied. "Don't worry about me."

Buffy stood on her tip toes and peeked into the hole. It was cramped, cold, and in need of cleaning.

"How can I not worry. It looks dirty."

Joyce glanced around at her tight, dark quarters.

"It seems that way to you," she replied before offering an encouraging smile to her daughter. "I made some lemonade and I'm learning how to play mah-jongg."

Joyce frowned slightly.

"Don't you have somewhere to be? Something important to do?"

Buffy shook her head.

"You should go find your friends," Joyce stated. "I think they might be in danger."

The Eternal One frowned. Her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched slightly as she considered who was more important. Since her memories were long gone, Buffy had only scattered emotions and rough logic to guide her. Mother meant family. Family was something special and not to be ignored. Friends came and went. She made them when possible and enjoyed their company until their lives ended. Family was another matter. She had long been jealous of the connections she observed in other families. That closeness had been missing in her life for an unknown time. The Eternal One had no family. Buffy Summers did. The Slayer raised her chin ever so slightly as she made her decision. If she truly was Buffy Summers then her family needed to be a priority.

"I think we need to help you first," Buffy countered before she reached towards the edge of the hole. Straining her arms, she pulled at the metal. It creaked and groaned. She adjusted her grip and positioned her feet so that she had more leverage. She continued to apply force. Buffy grunted with effort as the metal plate began to warp slightly from her pressure. Her arms shook with the exertion but she was rewarded with a sharp ping. One of the rivets holding the metal wall in place snapped free and ricocheted across the corridor. It was followed by three more as the sheet of metal pulled away from its mooring.

Buffy bent back the metal and offered her mother a hand. Joyce took it and stepped from the horrid little space where she had been unknowingly trapped.

"Oh, Buffy," her mom murmured with pride and happiness as she wrapped her arms around her daughter.

"Thank you so much, Honey," Joyce shared as she squeezed tightly.

A long forgotten image that the Eternal One did not realize still existed slithered through her minds eye. Buffy gasped as she remembered a fleeting moment of connection with this woman. In the memory, they were walking arm in arm through the darkness and a similar rush of warmth rushed over the young girl. She didn't remember why her mother was so proud of her but she recognized the feeling that went along with the fleeting image.

"Mommy?" Buffy whispered as she clung desperately to the woman as she scrambled uselessly to grasp any other memories of her mother. She sobbed as she found nothing more. The moment was gone.

Joyce stepped back from her daughter's embrace. She raised her hands and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks before leaving her right hand cupping Buffy's cheek.

"You need to go, Sweetie."

Buffy shook her head in denial. She didn't want to lose this peaceful moment even if it was only in a dream.

"It's time, Buffy," Joyce firmly stated as she placed both her hands on the Eternal One's shoulders. With surprising strength, she spun her daughter until the Slayer was facing the other direction.

"Save your friends," she ordered. "I will be here when you need me."

The hands fell away from her shoulders and the corridor seemed to swirl. Buffy no longer stood in the industrial appearing space station. She now occupied a bright white room. At a table beside a world map, two men sat. One was the overly familiar young soldier from the Initiative and the other was a man she did not recognize. She stared at them for a second then turned her back. She wasn't interested in another distraction. The Eternal One knew a magic shrouded dream when she had one and she was impatient to reach the heart of the issue.

"This is no working," she stated.

"Enough," she ordered as she threw an angry glare around the spartan space. The environment shimmered as if it truly wanted to obey her command.

The room fell away and she stood in a desert. In the distance, she watched as dream Tara approached. Buffy crossed her arms and shifted her weight slightly so that her hip was casually tilted. Annoyance was obvious in her stance. When the dream guide attempted to engage in wispy conversation, the Eternal One shook her head.

"I have had enough. Make your point. And enough with the portents and half truths. Just tell me what I need to know."

From behind her, the spirit of the first slayer crept into view. The ancient power returned Buffy's glare with one of her own.

Tara spoke for the spirit but Buffy interrupted her.

"Why do you follow me?" she asked as she glared at the savage girl wrapped in rags and painted in battle paint.

"I don't," the guide replied on behalf of the spirit.

"I know who you are," the Eternal One stated with a certainty that stilled the motions of the spirit. The first slayer shook her head and sent her dread locks bouncing. She snarled silently at the Eternal One.

Dream ara still answered for the first slayer even though Buffy was now right in front of the spirit.

"How can you know me? I have no name."

"Then choose one," Buffy replied casually as if it were natural to do so. For her, it was. She had changed names so many times she could never hope to remember them all. A name held no power for her any longer. It was not the sum of her being but it did make it easier for folks to communicate with her and the Eternal One was all for allowing folks to have it easier. The world was harsh enough as it was; she didn't want to add to the stress.

"My path. My battle. No name. No family. No friends," the guide spoke for the spirit. "I live in the action of death, the blood cry, the penetrating wound."

Buffy appeared unimpressed by the words. She shrugged in response as she confirmed in a flat and unemotional voice "you are the first slayer."

The utterly bland attitude shocked the spirit creature. She screeched and Tara cringed.

"I am the power. The fight. I am destruction. Absolute. I am meant to be alone."

"One. Chosen," Tara intoned.

"You have no comprehension of alone," ranted the Eternal One as she ignored Tara and focused solely on the first slayer. "You are the beginning. You flow with the promise of a future. I am the last. The only. I have been alone longer than humanity existed. Unfathomably longer than even you have existed at this point."

Buffy snapped our her hand and captured the arm of the first slayer. She dragged the being towards her until they were almost touching. Her green eyes snapped with a promise of violence that cowed the spirit even here in its seat of power. She shook the creature and shared her own snarl.

"You make death with your hands but you no longer hold the power. Your time is done. I am the Slayer. You are nothing but a memory. A shade of fleeting forgotten pain flaring and dying. Dust."

Buffy shoved the first slayer away from her. The spirit creature cowered on the ground in the wash of spirit that pulsed from the current slayer.

"You have no power here," the Eternal One stated. "Embrace your rest. Enjoy its promise."

"NO!" cried the cowering girl. A jagged rock dagger appeared in her hand. She lunged for Buffy intend on destroying the creature who had warped and destroyed her very purpose.

The Eternal One sidestepped the attack, knocked the dagger from her hand, and spun so she could catch the spirit by the back of her neck. She hauled the first slayer back against her slightly smaller frame. She wrapped her free arm around the spirit creature's neck and growled into her ear.

"Enough. Your time is done. I am the One," she stated calmly just before she snapped the neck of the spirit creature. The body fell to the ground and shifted to dust much like the vampires the slayers were supposed to destroy.

"We are done here," Buffy informed the horrified guide. For a heartbeat, dream Tara stared at the Eternal One. Her horror-stricken expression faded slowly to one of equal parts pity and compassion.

The desert faded until only the guide and the Slayer remained. Dream Tara shook her head and clasped her hands against her stomach to keep herself from reaching for the powerful yet haunted being.

"You are lost. Stripped bare. You are the One and we hope you find your way once more."

Buffy opened her eyes. She was wrapped in the comforter. Shifting the blanket, she noticed that the gilly had left its intended nest and was curled up against her hip.

"I hope you have better dreams," she told the little demon as she gently stroked down its back. A vibrating purr slipped from its throat. Buffy covered the gilly with part of her blanket and moved to curl back into the bed also. From somewhere else in the house, a shrill ringing interrupted her plans. The Scoobies had awoken at the conclusion of her dream and Giles had immediately sought confirmation that she was fine.

Buffy glanced up as Joyce stepped into the room and handed Buffy the phone. The Slayer sighed. Unfortunately, she was done sleeping for the night.


	4. Chapter 4

With a soft smile on her face, the Eternal One listened to Giles ramble about his experience with the Slayer dream. She found it amusing that it sounded like he was not used to such image laden and rambling dreams. They were so commonplace for her that she was amazed that it wasn't the same for others. During the discussion, Giles also confirmed that both Willow and Xander had been sucked into the restless spirit's nightmares. When he questioned if she had dreamed of the first, Buffy nodded before she remembered that this was still a telephone and not a holophone. Giles could not see her. Catching herself, the Slayer shared the culmination of her dream. She refrained from describing the scenes that led to the desert. The warrior figured that the Watcher only required knowledge of the actual confrontation with the slayer spirit.

She knew a number of the other dream scenes would expose more information about herself than she wished to share at this point. Before she revealed anything significant to anyone, the Eternal One needed to determine who her allies would be. It was imperative that she know who she could trust and who would desire to use her. Protecting herself was second nature to the Slayer since she had spent so many lifetimes with no one to help with the burden.

"What was that?" she interrupted Giles when she realized that she had been gathering wool instead of paying attention to the conversation. She heard him sigh in annoyance before he repeated himself.

"I said that you should come over this afternoon so that we can discuss the battle and any possible consequences from the enjoining spell or slayer dreams. Plan to be here at three," he told her.

"No," Buffy replied evenly. Although her reply seemed harsh and arbitrary, she wasn't trying to be contrary. The Eternal One had no intention of leaving her home today. She needed time to investigate all that she could about Buffy's life and become familiar with what should be her safe zone before tackling other places and people. In addition, the Slayer really wanted a chance to spend time with her mother. She kept hoping that more time might spark some sort of memory or image. She wanted more than just the fleeting image of a stroll through the dark.

"Ex...cuse... me?" Rupert stammered in surprise at the Slayer's refusal. In the past, Buffy had attempted to weasel out of Slayer duties but she had not done so in a long time. Her reaction only strengthened Giles belief that something was amiss with his Slayer. He repeated his original statement and added an emphasis on how important her attendance was to the meeting.

Unmoved by the insistence that she must be present, the Slayer countered "Are there any more military bases that we need to destroy?"

"Um... no."

"Do you need me to hunt some specific danger?"

"No..."

"Then you do not need the Slayer. I am spending the day with my mother."

"But the enjoining spell..." Giles attempted to reason with the girl.

Buffy rolled her eyes even though it wasn't going to be seen.

"I am not now nor shall I ever be a witch, wizard, sorcerer or magician. I have nothing useful to add to any magical discussion. I suggest that you contact me if you need me to slay something. I can be all with the rough and tumble. It's what I do best."

Giles sputtered but was unable to reply before Buffy disconnected the call. He stared at the phone in confusion. He paused to think as he returned the telephone to its cradle. They had to see Buffy today. They needed to gather more information about what was influencing her to act unlike herself. He picked back up the phone and dialed Willow's number. He hoped that she would be able to bring Tara over to his flat and then they could go to the Summer's home. As an afterthought, he also contacted Xander to request that he join them. Perhaps the younger man would know how to reach Riley so that he could be included. A united front was the best option that the former Watcher could envision.

* * *

After ending the telephone conversation, Buffy spent some time digging through her closet. With a gleeful abandon, the Eternal One dragged free colorful outfits and scattered them across the bed as well as the floor. It had been way too long since she had new clothes that she didn't have to convert to fit her frame. In her most recent future, the few alien races and demons who regularly wore clothes were often not similar in shape to the Slayer. Since the destruction of humanity, she rarely had more than a small collection of serviceable items at all times. She reveled in the smorgasbord of material and style surrounding her now.

She held up a pair of faded jeans and a sparkly top.

"What do you think, Billy-gilly?" she asked the adgillmum. The little demon lifted his head at the sound of her voice. His head poked up from the pile of clothes under which he had buried himself in a makeshift den. The creature glanced at Buffy, cooed as if to answer her question, then resumed hiding in the soft collection of clothes on the bed.

"Everyone's a critic," muttered Buffy with a grin and a shrug. After spending so many years with little company, the Eternal One found it natural to speak to her pets as if they could answer her. She had often engaged in long rambling discussions with the little demons. She never expected the companions to respond but it had allowed her to feel less alone. It was an ingrained habit that was not lost in the centuries since she last cared for any types of pets.

The Slayer tossed aside the skimpy shirt but shimmied into the form fitting jeans. She giggled as she pulled off her nightshirt and replaced it with a camisole that Buffy had owned since she moved from LA. The material was faded from the original red to a softer pink and was incredibly thin and comfortable from repeated washings.

"Did your closet develop indigestion?" Joyce questioned from the doorway of Buffy's bedroom.

"Mother!" the Eternal One exclaimed enthusiastically as she whipped around to face her newly rediscovered parent. She offered Joyce a sheepish grin. "I was having problems deciding what to wear."

Her mother shook her head. Given the choices available, she wasn't surprised by Buffy's indecision. Of course, she thought it was because her daughter didn't like any of the options as opposed to the truth of having too many alternatives.

"Well, I expect you would have an easier time if you brought home your regular wardrobe from the dorm," Joyce commented as she stepped into the room. She approached the bed and reached for a soft blue sweater that was towards the bottom of the pile. It was almost as old as the camisole and jeans her daughter was wearing but she figured it would still look nice in combination.

"STOP!" her child warned sharply as she grabbed for her mother.

Joyce startled and frowned at the rough grip Buffy made on her arm. When the Slayer released her forearm, she rubbed at the red fingerprints that were most likely going to bruise.

"Buffy," Joyce started in a scolding tone but her daughter interrupted her to apologize.

"Sorry mom," Buffy offered contritely. "Didn't mean to hurt you but I really didn't want you to accidentally hurt Billy-gilly."

The Slayer reached for the clothing pile and pulled free some of them to reveal the gilly in its material burrow. The little demon clicked in annoyance at being uncovered. The chattering changed to cooing though when Buffy gently ran her finger along its head and then down its spine.

"I don't want you bitten," she explained to her mother.

Joyce pulled back her bruised arm and took a hesitant step away from the bed.

"If it is dangerous, it shouldn't be in the house," Joyce stated firmly.

Buffy shook her head in denial.

"No, no," she assured. "It isn't dangerous, per say. It just... well, it can be dangerous. It has a poisonous bite."

Joyce took another step back and she glared at her daughter.

Buffy shook her head more vehemently.

"No. Please. You don't understand. I mean, I can be dangerous but you still allow me to stay."

She offered her mother a pleading look intended to soften her heart. Although she didn't realize it, the Eternal One displayed a pout that hadn't crossed her lips for many lifetimes. It was a look entirely Buffy in origin. Joyce shook her head. She had a lifetime of dealing with her daughter's pouts. She wasn't about to be moved by this slightly rusty one.

The Slayer straightened her arm and clicked a couple times with her tongue against the roof of her mouth. The gilly arched up a bit like a classic Halloween kitty then scrambled up her arm until it was poised on her shoulder. Buffy turned back towards her mother.

"Gillies are actually very sweet as long as you don't hurt them," she offered in a cajoling tone. Buffy really wanted to keep the gilly because she knew it would be unable to take care of itself properly without its family unit. Although she might have been projecting some of her own fears, the Eternal One suspected that setting the little demon loose would result in its death. Gilly had very defined roles in their pod structures and this one was too young to know how to hunt or even how to properly defend territory. It would end up as dinner to some other demon if released outside the safety of the house and her protection.

Buffy moved towards her mother who warily watched the demon happily perched on her daughter's shoulder. The Slayer explained how fragile the gilly was. The Eternal One stressed that the little demon was very intelligent and also very loyal. She added that once the gilly thought of Joyce as family, it would never bite her. Not even if she accidentally injured it. Family was the most important thing to the little demons.

"So how do we get it to see me as family?" Joyce asked a bit suspiciously. Her daughter had never been able to keep a plant alive let alone any type of family pet. Mrs Summers suspected she would be forced to care for the little demon and she wasn't exactly comfortable with the thought.

Buffy grinned. Even though she didn't remember her mother, she recognized an opening for impending capitulation.

"We start by you showing him that you care for him. It will help if you can make soothing clicks with your tongue and then pet him gently. He especially enjoys having the scales along his spine smoothed. It's something the elder gillys do to the younger ones. Granted, they use their tongues but a finger works really well for those of us with tongues of the non-forked and super long variety."

The Slayer coaxed the gilly into her arms and showed her mother how to stroke the little demon. Joyce tentatively ran her finger down his spine. The gilly shivered then cooed at her. It shifted slightly so that she could more easily reach its back. Joyce couldn't help herself. She chuckled at its antics.

"It is just like a puppy, wanting attention," she murmured as she skimmed her finger over its spine again.

Buffy nodded encouragingly.

"I think they feel neat," the Slayer admitted. "The scales aren't slimy but they are strangely soft."

Joyce hummed in agreement as she listened to her daughter offer another suggestion. She then held her arm to mimic the invitation for the creature to climb up her arm. Buffy clicked her tongue and Joyce attempted to repeat the sounds. On the third try, she got the sound right and the gilly only stared at her arm for a moment before scampering up the other woman's appendage and nestling on her shoulder. The demon leaned into Joyce's hair and wrapped its tail around her neck.

Mrs Summers stood still as her daughter explained the other important points for caring for the demon. She outlined its food needs as well as how its scales would molt as it grew. The scales would darken over time and were the best way to gauge how old the demon was.

"You certainly seem to know a lot about these creatures, Sweetie," Joyce commented when it decided to abandon her shoulder and leap back to the bed. The two women watched as the happy gilly resumed burrowing in the clothes until only the tip of its tale remained uncovered.

Buffy shrugged sheepishly.

"I like them. I know most folks like dogs and cats and fish. Those would be more normal pets, I guess. I just, well, they remind me of me."

Joyce frowned. She didn't see what her daughter could possibly have in common with the demonic creature. The Eternal One noticed the lack of understanding. She reached out and touched Joyce's arm.

"They really are a lot like me. Small but fierce at times. They are social and love physical affection."

Joyce's frown only grew as she noticed the wistful expression that settled on her daughter's face as she stared at the lump on the bed where the gilly hid.

"They need others to help them survive. They were never meant to be solitary creatures. They are lost without loved ones."

As she listened to Buffy, a gnawing pain started in Joyce's stomach. The heartbreak in her daughter's voice caught her breath and made her chest ache for the kinship the teen somehow felt for the gilly. She had never heard anything even approaching it from her child previously.

"Oh, Buffy... Sweetie," Joyce murmured although her daughter didn't seem to notice her words. It was like the teen had lost herself in her thoughts and was no longer seeing her bedroom. Joyce shuddered to think what Buffy was actually seeing. She couldn't understand the depth of distress in her child's words but she suspected it must be tied to her job as the Slayer.

"They wither... slowly dying... starved for affection... starved for warmth... belonging... comfort... connection... touch..."

The Eternal One was drawn from her lost mumbling when Joyce wrapped her arms around her in a crushing hug.

"Hush, Honey... don't cry, Sweetie," Joyce soothed as she tried to force whatever horrible images were clouding her daughter's heart and mind with sheer force of will and affection.

In the warmth of her mom's embrace, Buffy slowly returned to the present. She shuddered as she forced away the myriad of memories that threatened to crush her. Years of solitude and desolation warred against her mental strength. Desperate to stay in the moment and escape her own future, the Eternal One clung to her mother as her previously silent and unnoticed tears turned to gut wrenching sobs.

Frightened and unsure of how to respond, Joyce held her tighter and found herself joining Buffy in tears. She didn't even know why she was crying but she could not help it. Whatever was haunting her daughter was just that powerful and Joyce feared for her child despite her lack of understanding. All she could do was hold her and offer repeated words of sympathy and love.

The crying continued for almost twenty minutes. By the end of the episode, the pair of Summers women found themselves collapsed on the bedroom floor with their backs against the side of Buffy's bed.

Hiccuping and scrubbing at the tear trails, the Slayer shifted until her head rested on her mother's shoulder.

"Sorry, Mommy," Buffy sniffled in a lost voice that sent another pang of pain through Joyce's chest.

Joyce swiped at her own tears and offered a watery smile to her daughter.

"It's okay, Sweetie. You can keep the gilly," she offered between her own sniffles. She hoped the bit of humor and misdirection would help lighten the stifling moment.

Between hiccups, Buffy giggled.

"Oh, the tears worked? I can keep him?"

Joyce laughed weakly as a way of releasing some of her pent up fear.

"I am not cleaning up any demon pee or poop though. You have that responsibility when it makes it business."

Buffy nodded solemnly as if the gilly was the real reason for her tears.

"He will potty himself," she promised. "We just need a little bit of sand in a corner of the yard. They really are quite smart. Could even use a kitty litter box if we wanted."

"Outside is fine," Joyce stated as she patted Buffy on the knee.

Her daughter took a fortifying deep breath.

"Thank you, mom," she whispered as she leaned against Joyce's shoulder and closed her eyes.

Joyce raised her hand and rested it against the side of Buffy's cheek.

"I love you, Buffy," she stressed in response.

Buffy hummed happily as she found herself pulled once more into a hug.

"I love you and you are never truly alone," Joyce promised.

Buffy smiled even though she knew that it was a sweet yet painfully inadequate lie.

"I love you too, mom," she whispered instead as she once more shoved away the fresh desire to cry by reminding herself that at least for this moment, she wasn't alone.

* * *

The sun had set less than a half hour ago when a soft knock sounded on the back door. Joyce glanced towards the sharp summons before requesting that Buffy see who was there. They were not expecting any company and her mother was wrist deep in meatloaf mix. Buffy set aside the knife she was using to cut vegetables and wiped her hands on a towel. She shook her head slightly as she stepped towards the door. She already knew who was there. The tingles on the back of her neck made it obvious. She pulled open the door and confirmed her suspicion.

"Slayer," Spike greeted warily as he waited to discover if the blond had returned to her normally perky yet disdainful self or if the more mature and more accepting girl would be present. He wasn't exactly sure which option he was hoping to discover.

"Vampire," Buffy returned in a similar tone.

Spike's eyebrow raised questioningly. In response, the corner of Buffy's lip quirked in a suppressed smile.

"Oh, Spike," Joyce offered in greeting with a welcoming smile as she glanced over her shoulder. Her acknowledgment of their guest seemed to smooth over the minor battle of wills warring at the doorway. Buffy stepped away from the threshold and inclined her head in invitation. Spike smirked as he stepped into the kitchen. He couldn't help the ongoing amusement that he had a standing invitation to the Slayer's home. Even with a chip in his head, the fact that he had an open pass to her house surprised him anew each time he entered.

The visiting vampire stood silently and watched as the two Summers women returned to their cooking tasks. Joyce pulled free a bit of the raw meatloaf mixture and dropped it into a smaller bowl. She placed the rest in a baking dish. After washing her hands, she slipped the larger dish into the heated oven. She closed the oven door and turned to the strangely silent vampire. Although she didn't know him as well as most of Buffy's friends, Joyce realized that silent was not the normal state for him.

"Everything okay?" she prompted with concern evident in her voice.

Spike flashed a quick glance at Buffy who had just finished adding cherry tomatoes to a large bowl of salad. She didn't make any comment. The lack of disparaging insult made the vampire a bit uncomfortable but he still shrugged.

"Just checkin' in," he offered with practiced nonchalance.

With a grin, Joyce sighed. Any time one of her daughter's friends arrived, she always worried about the danger they were going to snag Buffy into facing. It might have been an unfair assessment of her daughter's duties as the Slayer but it was still the way she felt. She was happy to hear that Spike wasn't arriving with danger on his coattails. Relieved, Joyce extended an invitation for the vampire to stay for dinner. She assured Spike that there was more than enough to share.

Unsure of his actual welcome to stay, the vampire stole another glance at the Slayer. Buffy noticed his unease this time. She added her own invitation.

"Well, okay then," Spike answered as he slipped off his leather duster and tossed it onto one of the stools at the center island. He settled against the counter and watched as Joyce moved to make white rice while Buffy finished preparing the salad. Buffy brushed past him and retrieved a pitcher of iced tea from the refrigerator. Instead of searching the cupboards, the Eternal One grabbed a clean glass from the drying rack in the one side of the sink. She poured herself a refreshment then turned to their guest.

"Um, sorry, we don't have any blood," she explained before checking with her mom. "We don't, right?"

Buffy sounded a bit uneasy asking the question but she still made the overture of good manners.

Joyce frowned before answering contritely "Um, no... sorry Spike. We don't have any blood to offer."

"Not an issue, Joyce. Already got my piggy from the market," he replied as he purposefully brushed against the Slayer as he reached for the other glass in the sink. When Buffy failed to react negatively to the vampire's touch, he shook his head ever so slightly. He then held the glass out to the blond. "I'm fine with whatever you're drinkin, luv."

Buffy filled the glass with a friendly smile. She set the pitcher on the counter then grabbed a seat at the island. Spike joined her. He sipped from the glass as he watched Buffy watch her mother pull dishes from the cupboards. He suspected she was making note of where each item was found but wasn't sure why she didn't already know. After all, it was her house.

"Kitchen or dining room?" Joyce asked as she glanced at Buffy. Normally, guests meant more formal circumstances but she had enjoyed the impromptu and casual snack last evening with Spike and Buffy. She secretly hoped that her daughter would be happy with eating in the more family friendly room.

"Kitchen is fine," Buffy answered as Spike assured Joyce that they didn't need to go to any extra effort for him.

Joyce joined them at the counter after grabbing her own glass from the cupboard. She settled into place and poured herself a drink. She then turned to Buffy and asked if she was finished with all her finals.

For a moment, Buffy froze. She then jumped up.

"OH!" She exclaimed in overdone horror. "I forgot to take Billy-gilly his dinner."

Ignoring her mother's question, the Slayer rushed over to the counter. She snagged the bowl with the raw meat in it and rushed out of the room.

Joyce shook her head as she watched her daughter flee.

"I wonder if that means she thinks she failed some of her finals?" she muttered. Joyce always worried that Buffy's duties as Slayer were limiting her academic potential. Unfortunately, she never did quite embrace the concept of Slayers not needing to plan for the future since most of them did not have one. It was a concept Joyce made an effort to pretend did not exist.

Spike snorted. He doubted that test failure was the reason for the Slayer's hasty retreat but he decided against voicing his suspicions. Instead, he distracted Joyce by asking about her work. By the time Buffy returned with her new pet on her shoulder and the empty bowl, the pair were laughing over a tale Spike shared about an art theft he and Drusilla inadvertently thwarted in the twenties when they broke into a museum after hours because Dru insisted that she needed to talk with the newly arrived mummy. Spike conveniently left out the fact that the pair had the thieves as an after dinner snack but he made a point of sharing how disappointed Dru was when the mummy didn't answer any of her questions. It hadn't been the least bit magical; it had just been a dried up corpse. Drusilla had been devastated.

Without a word, the Slayer passed through the kitchen and out the door. She returned about five minutes later with a very contented gilly in her arms. She slid into her seat and settled the cooing demon on her lap.

Warily, Spike moved his stool a bit farther from the dangerous creature.

"It's not going to hurt you," Buffy assured the vampire as she gently rubbed the smaller demon's spine. She reached out and caught Spike's hand and brought it towards the gilly. Spike momentarily resisted but gave up the fight when Joyce reached around the corner of the counter and gently rubbed the demon on its head. If the humans were crazy enough to be petting the cursed thing, then he wasn't about to look like a coward by refusing.

Resigned, Spike allowed Buffy to run his fingers softly over the back of the happily rumbling demon. Just as she assured her mother earlier in the day, the Slayer explained the basics of safe interactions with the poisonous little creature. All through her instructions, she kept running the vampire's fingers over the gilly's soft scales.

"Pull out your bumpies," Buffy ordered Spike.

Reluctantly, the vampire shifted into his fangs and ridges. Joyce gasped uneasily and Spike almost shook off his game face. He didn't want to unduly scare the considerate woman. For some reason, he hated reminding her about his demonic status. He worried that she would be less accepting of his presence if he made her too uncomfortable.

As if realizing his intention, Buffy's free hand grabbed his thigh.

"Keep it in place," she encouraged as she offered his muscle a light squeeze. She then asked him to utter a soft growl towards the gilly while continuing to pet him. Spike rolled his eyes but complied. Under his fingers, the gilly froze. It then arched upward. Spike attempted to pull back his hand in response but Buffy anticipated his reaction. She prevented the motion. Instead, she forced him to gently scratch the gilly around its head and then under its chin. She told him to growl again. When he did, the gilly arched its back even higher and leaped from Buffy's lap onto Spike's legs. Spike froze in fear but relaxed minutely when the gilly rubbed its head against his stomach and purred. In fact, the purring was louder than its contented sounds while in the Slayer's care.

"Your demon is closer to the surface than mine. It appreciates how it feels," she murmured softly. "You make it feel safe."

Although the mention of the Slayer possessing a demon surprised the vampire, he was even more startled by the mellow acceptance in Buffy's tone as she voiced the unexpected fact. Deciding to come back to the possibility of a Slayer demon at a point when he could get the young woman alone, Spike kept his attention on the immediate danger on his lap. The gilly wrapped its tail down and around Spike's thigh and its tiny claws clung tightly to his jeans. Spike shifted his gaze back and forth between the Slayer and the small demon.

"This is all kinds of wrong," the vampire muttered under his breath as he pulled his hand from Buffy's grasp and gently ran his fingers down the gilly's back without her prompting.

"Nothing wrong here, Spike," Buffy replied softly as she flicked her attention from the vampire to her mother. A level of contentment and joy radiated from the Slayer that Spike had never seen her display. He met her eyes when she shifted back on the stool.

"If you say so, Slayer."

"I do, Vampire," she returned with a teasing emphasis on the vampire title.

Joyce snorted.

"You two are like a pair of twelve year old," she chastised jokingly.

Spike sputtered in denial but Buffy just giggled.

"I like it," Joyce stated firmly with a nod of approval. She might have said more but the buzzer sounded on the stove to announce that the meatloaf was finished baking. Her daughter moved to get the dish but her mother waved her from the task.

"You need to find somewhere for your little pet to wait while we eat. I am not going to protest his making our house his home but he may not be at the table while we eat."

Buffy immediately agreed. She wasn't going to protest a point she saw as a win. Instead, the Slayer reached for the gilly who reluctantly released its hold on Spike and allowed her to carry him out of the room. The little demon whined softly and raised a claw towards the vampire. Buffy clicked her tongue a couple times and the gilly dejectedly accepted the order. It might have wanted to stay with the more powerful demon but the little fellow was intelligent enough to realize who was really in charge. It could feel the power surrounding the Slayer and even though Spike had a stronger demonic presence, the scent of power from Buffy eclipsed the vampire's strength. The gilly might be confused about its strange new home and its new family but it knew its place. He would listen to the Slayer and stay in her bedroom. He would obey her and she would protect him. In his mind, that was the way family worked.

* * *

"Joyce, this is fantastic," Spike praised as he quickly snagged a second bite of meatloaf from his plate.

Joyce beamed with pride as Buffy muttered over his lack of appreciation for her salad.

"They're veggies, Slayer. Not exactly gourmet fare," he returned as he speared yet another bite of the moist meat.

Before the comments could escalate to a minor spat, the doorbell interrupted Buffy's snarly reply.

Joyce frowned as she glanced at the half eaten dinner.

"Not sure we have enough for any other unexpected guests," she uttered as she placed her napkin on the counter.

This time, Buffy waved her off from moving. She offered to answer the door as the doorbell rang a second time.

"Impatient buggers," Spike muttered under his breath as the Slayer headed to the front door and the bell echoed a third time.

From the hallway, the Slayer echoed the sentiment. "Hold your smelly gaklacks," she grumbled as she reached the door. She pulled it open and glared at the young man nervously reaching to press the door bell again.

Buffy frowned as Xander pulled back his hand from an aborted attempt to ring the doorbell a forth time.

"I know we don't have enough meatloaf for all of you," she uttered as she took stock of the people standing on her mother's front porch. She recognized the four humans from the battle the previous night. After investigating in her room earlier in the day, Buffy could match the names Xander and Willow with their proper owners. She had likewise figured out who Giles was from his conversation on the telephone as well as some notes scribbled in a yearbook from her senior year at Sunnydale High School. In addition, her dream the night before had supplied her with the fifth arrival's name. She also correctly assumed that Tara was a witch given the powers she experienced during their dream interactions.

The Eternal One still lacked information on the tall soldier who was standing leaning against one of the support posts near the porch steps but she figured that he was a friend she made at college since she found no mention of him in any of her high school memorabilia. She just figured that she would avoid him as much as possible until she knew more about their level of relationship. She was a little unsure of its actual status given the overly familiar way he had touched her when she first arrived.

Startled by the unexpected and slightly unwelcoming greeting, Giles stepped forward. He nervously pulled off his glasses and butchered his own greeting of good evening.

Buffy glanced over her shoulder towards the kitchen and the soft voices of the comfortable meal she didn't want to miss. She sighed and her shoulders slumped. She should have expected whatever emergency required her attention. It was what she had come to expect. Battles and problems were the only reasons folks normally sought the company of the Eternal One. Her few visitors in the last couple centuries were always those in need of help or those with a sadistic desire to try to prove themselves as something special by killing her.

"What kind of weapons do I require?" she inquired before she took a fortifying breath. The Slayer shoved aside her disappointment and settled the dull mantle of duty over her shoulders. Mentally, she inventoried the sorely lacking weapons stash she had discovered in a trunk in her bedroom. She would need to invest in better ones in the near future. She moved away from the door and towards the steps.

"Oh, no weapons are needed," Giles assured the Slayer as he stepped into the foyer. He was followed by the entire group of young people. They crowded into the small space and Buffy found herself retreating back and up onto the first stair step to keep from being overwhelmed by their proximity. She might have an incredible desire to not be alone but she was out of practice with dealing with crowds.

"Something doesn't need killed?"

"Oh no," Willow assured her as she stepped towards her friend.

Buffy took another step backwards and up another stair rise. The rage and disgust from last night once more twisted in her chest. She glared at the redhead until the teen stopped moving towards her.

"We were worried about you," Willow earnestly offered as she nodded her head and waved her hands in distress. The teen didn't understand why Buffy kept acting so hurtfully towards her. She realized that their friendship had been strained the last couple of months but she truly believed they had dealt with the problems before infiltrating the initiative. Buffy's current attitude just reinforced the witch's belief that something went dreadfully wrong with the enjoining spell. There was no other logical reason for her to be treating her this way.

"Yeah, Buffster. You blew off our traditional after apocalypse party for walking home with the bleached wonder. Something way off with that. Don't you think?" Xander added with a lopsided grin that hinted at how concerned he was despite his joking tone.

"We are just concerned that you might be experiencing some... er... unexpected effects from the enjoining spell, Buffy," Giles restated with obvious concern in his soft tone.

Buffy rolled her eyes but then shook her head.

"I appreciate the concern," she stated as she offered the assembly an honest smile. She truly did appreciate their obvious care but she wasn't sure how she could relieve their worries since they were not completely wrong in their observations. She wasn't exactly the same. The problem was that she was Buffy even if they didn't recognize her as the one that they knew. Even if she no longer remembered herself as Buffy, it didn't change the fact that she was.

The Slayer glanced around the foyer. From the way the visitors were nervously clustered and glancing repeatedly at Tara, Buffy figured that they had thought of something to address the problem. It obviously involved the witch. She sighed.

"So what are you proposing to make _yourselves_ feel better about _me_?" the Eternal One questioned with an emphasis on her words that showed that it was their concerns not her own that were steering their worry-ship.

Although offended by Buffy's tone and disregard for their understandable fears, Willow explained that Tara would be able to tell if something was unduly influencing the Slayer. She rambled a bit about Faith and auras and Tara before her girlfriend reached out and laid a calming hand on her arm. Willow visibly relaxed before offering Tara a thankful smile.

"So what do you need me to do to work your mojo?" Buffy directly asked Tara.

The shy college student met the Slayer's eyes and stammered that she didn't need to do anything. She reached out and took Willow's hand and squeezed it.

"There's nah-nah-nothing there," Tara murmured with a slight frown. "All... uh... Buffy. No... uh dis... hmm... disharmony."

"But there has to be something there," Riley insisted as he pushed his way from the back of the group. He towered over Tara and she cringed back from his obvious disappointment and disbelief. He turned to glare at the Slayer. "She isn't normal. You must be doing it wrong."

Although Tara took another half step back and lowered her eyes in response to his accusation, Willow was not willing to allow the former commando to bully her girlfriend. With an indignant and shrill voice, she defended the aura reading.

"Hey! If Tara says there is nothing wrong then there is nothing wrong."

"Are you..." Giles attempted to question the findings but a glare from Willow kept him from completing his detracting comment. He nodded in acceptance even though he wasn't sure what the lack of outside influence meant. He still believed something was wrong with his Slayer but if there was no sign of it then he wasn't sure what their next step would be.

"You know, if you're so concerned about the Slayer, you could always just ask her what's going on," Spike suggested from the doorway to the kitchen. Joyce stood at his shoulder with a concerned expression and her hands nervously clasped against her stomach.

"Hostile 17!?" Riley accused with unrestrained anger at the vampire being allowed in the house. He had not business being involved with any of them and he didn't understand why Buffy hadn't dusted him.

"What is he doing here?" he demanded with a nasty glare at his girlfriend.

"Enjoying a bite of dinner," Spike mocked with a cocky grin that further infuriated Riley.

"BUFFY!" Riley and Xander cried in horrified unison while Willow gasped.

The Eternal One rolled her eyes.

"Meatloaf," she stated with annoyance as she stomped down the two steps to face her now irate guests. "He is eating meatloaf."

The Slayer shifted her glare from person to person until they all stepped back from the vicious anger clearly evident in her eyes and body language.

"Holy Hellspawn. Do you really think I would be standing here trading pleasantries with the peasantry if a vampire was sucking my mother dry in the kitchen?"

"Do any of you know me at all?" she muttered in annoyance.

"But that is the problem, Slayer," Spike replied since no one else seemed willing to face the wraith of Buffy. "None of us seem to know this you. This you is just... well... this you is just not you."

"I hate to agree with the evil undead but I am agreeing with the evil undead," Xander stated uncomfortably. He really didn't want to support any point Spike made but the teen found his concern for his friend outweighed his dislike for the vampire. "Something smells in Sweden."

"Denmark, you pillock," Spike muttered as Giles pulled off his glassed.

"Please refrain from butchering Shakespeare," the former librarian instructed the younger man as he pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers.

Xander pouted momentarily at the minor scold but quickly pushed past the comments. He was used to getting stuff wrong. He didn't see what it mattered. They knew what he meant anyway or they wouldn't have been able to correct his misquote. What was important was the fact that something was smelly in Sunnydale and it was centered around their friend.

"This is getting us nowhere," Giles grumbled with poorly constrained disgust.

Seeing no alternative, Buffy stepped towards Tara. She held out her hand to the witch.

"Why don't you tell them exactly what you see, Sweets," she prodded encouragingly. "It will be even clearer if you touch me, right?"

Tara nodded as her eyes darted from Buffy to Willow and back again.

"Go on," Willow encouraged.

The shy witch reached for the Slayer's offered hand. She shivered and closed her eyes for a moment as Buffy's aura washed over her.

"OH!" Tara gasped as the sheer magnitude of the aura's power swirled around the witch. She snatched back her hand and held it cradled against her chest. She lifted frightened eyes to meet the compassionate green gaze from the Slayer.

"Ssss-still all just Buffy," she confirmed with a shiver. "But so much of you. Like a thousand yous all crammed in one body. So much power. So much emotion."

"The enjoining spell," Giles uttered pensively. "It called upon the primal strength of the Slayer. It... it must have magnified everything along with the Slayer spirit. That must be why we had the dreams. Too much power from the Slayer spirit leaking from Buffy into those of us who cast the spell. We were all joined so we caught part of the backlash."

"Plausible explanation," Buffy cheerfully confirmed. "Let's go with it."

Spike snorted and Tara frowned slightly. Neither was sure that the proposed explanation was quite right but they were not about to contradict it. The witch wasn't comfortable making more waves and the vampire preferred this new and improved Slayer. In addition, neither thought Buffy's response to the suggestion rang true but didn't understand why she was misdirecting the situation.

"Great... don't you think we should have known we were gonna get uber-Buffy with the spell?" Xander chided.

"Well, I did say that there could be dire consequences," Giles countered as he returned his glasses to their rightful place.

"Yeah, but you say that about eating while reading your reference books," Willow countered. After all, Giles was overly attached to his smelly books and hated when they got crumbs and sticky fingerprints on the pages.

"So this means that we can go back to our dinner in peace?" Joyce prompted. She was a bit annoyed that her meal had been interrupted with a seemingly useless confrontation. The food was sure to be cold now. That was the more pressing issue. In her mind, Buffy was Buffy and she saw no need for all this uproar. If there was something wrong, she was sure she would have noticed.

"Well, I can do some more research but yes. I don't think we need to panic at this point," Giles stated. "Buffy isn't under the influence of some foreign entity. Perhaps the effects will lessen on their own with time?"

Accepting the older man's suggestion, Xander and Willow turned towards the door. Their escape was halted by Riley though.

"NO!" the commando ordered loudly. He glared at Buffy's friends with disgust. "You're just going to leave? This isn't right."

He pointed at Buffy.

"She isn't right."

Riley turned his attention to Rupert.

"I want my girlfriend back. You screwed her up. Fix her."

Buffy crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

Riley swung back towards her.

"There is nothing to fix," she informed him.

"You're wrong," Riley pleaded as he reached for her. His hands grasp her upper arms in a hold that would have made a regular girl flinch. As it was, the Slayer just frowned in annoyance.

"Make them fix you," the soldier demanded. He shook her slightly as if that would help make his point. "You need to be normal."

"Normal?" Buffy repeated skeptically. "You want me to be normal?"

"Yes," he confirmed with relief evident in his voice. He was finally making his point and she was taking his needs seriously.

"Normal?" Buffy questioned one more time.

Riley nodded with a smile on his face.

Buffy tilted her head slightly and her nose scrunched as she considered his request.

"I'm the Slayer," she stated after a moment of silence.

"But you are also just a girl, my girl," Riley stressed.

Buffy pulled back from Riley's grasp. He tried to keep control of her but was no match for her strength. She wanted out of his hands and so she easily escaped his clutching hold.

"I am never just a girl," the Eternal One stated evenly and without a hint of arrogance. Her voice carried only a certainty as if she was stating a well known fact. Two plus two was equal to four and Buffy was the Slayer. They were truths that could not be refuted.

Now it was Riley's turn to frown. He shook his head in denial. He took a step away from his suddenly emotionally cold girlfriend. He didn't even recognize her under all this Slayer spirit influence. The girl he loved was lost and he feared she would never return. Spinning, Riley rushed from the house. The door slammed in his wake.

"Um, Buffster... don't you think you should go after him?" Xander asked uneasily.

Buffy shrugged.

"His issues are his to address. Not mine. Now if there isn't anything else to address, may I please return to my supper?"

Unable to offer any argument against her request, the Scoobies shuffled from the Summers house. From their perspective, things were no more amiss than a regular Sunnydale evening. Giles would take a little time to scan through his books but he wouldn't find anything additional of note about the enjoining spell. Willow and Tara would return to the dorm and play with their kitten while Xander would met with Anya for a snuggle in his basement. They were blissfully unaware of the tiny ripple that shimmered momentarily on the other side of town. It was only a minor disturbance that no one witnessed. In the wine cellar of Sunnydale's only French restaurant, four bottles of red wine pulsed and wavered into undrinkable brown sludge that reeked of vinegar and old gym socks. The shimmer dissolved leaving behind no trace but the over-aged and spoiled wine.


	5. Chapter 5

The doorbell rang late Saturday morning and Buffy skipped down the steps to answer it.

"I'm sorry, mom is..." she started to apologize to the young woman standing on the porch, but she paused in the middle of her speech. She bit her lower lip slowly and her nose scrunched slightly.

"Anya?" she asked hesitantly. She remembered seeing a picture from some type of formal dance with Xander and this young woman dressed in fancy clothes. She had also signed the yearbook on Buffy's shelf. The Eternal One smiled. Anya Emerson had written a very short note of thanks to the Slayer for saving the world on a regular basis and that she hoped she would continue to do so. The older Buffy found the message very sweet. It had seemed more honest and fitting than most of the other quickly scribbled inscriptions about eternal friendships and special memories. Since she didn't remember any of the folks in the book, her cynical side had to laugh about the childish lies.

The young woman grinned in response to the Slayer' greeting. She interpreted Buffy's expression of confusion as surprise and rushed to placate the blond. She was used to Xander covering for her social shortcomings so figured she should mirror his normal verbal backtracking since her boyfriend was not there to do it on her behalf.

"I know. I know. You didn't expect me to visit. I told Xander it would be a complete surprise and that we should call so that you were not displeased that I arrived unannounced," Anya enthusiastically responded.

The Eternal One slid seamlessly into the misrepresentation and offered the visitor a welcoming smile.

"It is a surprise but a pleasant one. It is lovely for you to visit me."

For a moment, Anya appeared confused at the obvious sincerity in the other girl's voice.

"Really?" she asked with a note of insecurity in her tone.

Buffy smiled and gestured for her to come inside the house.

"Of course," she assured her pretty guest as she reached out and pulled Anya into a short hug to welcome her into the home. "It is always a pleasure when friends come to call."

Anya beamed at being referred to as a friend. Other than with Xander, she was never exactly sure how welcome she was in the close circle of Scooby friends. Even with her limited understanding of the more subtle modern social niceties, she had correctly assumed that Willow barely tolerated her. The former demon figured that there was some residual jealousy going on in the redhead's heart in regards to Xander even though she had moved onto dating females.

Buffy was a different story. She didn't think the other teen harbored any romantic feelings towards her boyfriend but she knew Xander still carried a torch for the Slayer. Those poorly suppressed feelings made Anya feel uncomfortable in Buffy's presence even though the Slayer never made any indications of interest in stealing boyfriend attention from the former demon.

Anya allowed Buffy to draw her into the living room. When the Slayer offered her a drink, she shook her head. She had a specific task and didn't want to forget Xander's instructions by getting caught up in distractions. Xander was completing the second part of the plan and was relying on her to fulfill her assignment. She didn't want to disappoint him. Her well meaning intention flew out the window though when she caught sight of the adgillmum demon curled up on the sofa.

"Oh!" Anya squealed softly. "You have an Addie."

Confused, Buffy followed Anya's gaze.

"You know about gillies?" the Slayer questioned.

Anya stepped closer to the sofa and grinned. She had never heard the small creature referred to as a gilly but it made just as much sense of calling one an Addie.

"Of course," she answered. "D'Hoffryn used to keep a pod of Addies at Arashmaharr. They make wonderful pets. So very loyal and loving to their keepers. Incredible security addition too. Not that one ever had to worry about security in Arashmaharr. Especially not Hoffy."

Anya took another step towards the little creature. She leveled a hopeful expression towards the Eternal One.

"May I pet him?"

"As long as you don't hurt him, sure."

Anya promised to respect the demon as she knelt on the floor beside the sofa.

"Hello little one," she murmured softly before making a soft clicking with tongue. The sound was sharper than the ones Buffy had been using but the gilly seemed to recognize Anya's intention. Billy-Gilly uncurled and stretched.

"Oh, you're just a baby," Anya cooed as she gently rubbed her finger behind the demon's ear. She giggled when the gilly whipped its tail around to wrap around her wrist. Anya used her free hand to run a few fingers around the tail. She tugged lightly at the tail softly then tickled the end of it.

Buffy watched the former demon closely. She had never seen anyone play with a gilly's tail in such a manner.

"Won't that bother it?" Buffy questioned. "It's tail is sensitive."

Anya glanced up and nodded slightly. She confirmed that in a few years that it would be dangerous to do so. For now though, it was a safe and fun way to play with it.

"Oh, as long as they are younger than four or five years, it is safe to play with their tail. It doesn't become a sexual stimulant until they are much older. His scales would need to be a ruddier red to indicate sexual maturity before it would become dangerous to engage its tail tip. Same if it was the gray for a female. Until it passed into the bluer stages, it is safe with the females too."

"Huh... I never knew that," Buffy admitted.

Anya looked up again. She frowned slightly.

"I would expect not. I can't imagine you have had much cause to learn about adgillmum. Not like they are the normal fodder for a vampire slayer."

Anya carefully unwound the gilly's tail from her wrist. She offered the little demon another quick rub on its head then stood.

"How ever did you find this one?"

"Military base."

A horrified expression settled on Anya's face.

"Oh, poor baby," she muttered as she offered the gilly yet another soft rub down its spine and along its tail. "No other members of its pod rescued?"

Saddened by the failure, Buffy shook her head.

"Oh, it's a good thing you brought him home then. He would have starved or been eaten on his own."

"Yeah," the Slayer agreed. That had been her concern for the little guy after the battle at the Initiative.

"Hoffy actually saved his pod of pets from burning in Salem around the time of their famous Witch Trials. The family group was discovered in a dilapidated barn owned by some poor old woman who was later hanged for consorting with the devil. Course, the woman wouldn't have known a spell if she had been cursed by one. She was a grumpy old thing that angered the wrong upstanding citizen's kid. It happened a lot. Lots of innocent people being wronged. Great time for vengeance wishes. So many women being targeted and abused. Of course, none of the folks actually killed were really witches. I mean, think about it. If they had been real witches, they would have just used their powers to escape the entire situation. Or maybe cloud the minds of the accusers so they forgot they were conducting a trial."

Buffy chuckled.

"You certainly know a lot of stuff about the Salem witches."

Anya shrugged.

"Well, I should. I was there. D'Hoffryn had a couple of us working that summer. Tezrian, the patron saint of fallen women was lead on the vengeance rounds but I was along for the wishing whirl."

Anya perched on one of the stuffed chairs. She smiled softly as she remembered some of her past deeds as a vengeance demon. Her gaze sharpened as she raised her eyes to meet the Slayer's face. All she saw was an open and friendly acceptance. The expression amazed her.

"Xander would normally have told me to stop sharing by now. Are you just being polite? If you don't want to hear about my time as a demon, just tell me. If we are friends, I should work to not offend you. Right?"

Buffy moved around the couch and sat on the coffee table so that she could be closer to Anya. "I would never be offended by you sharing your experiences," she encouraged. Silently, the Eternal One hoped that her guest might actually share a bit more about her past. The Slayer was positive that she should know all these facts about Xander's girlfriend but none of the information she found in her room mentioned anything about Anya having been a demon of any type.

Although Buffy could sense a bit of something powerful in her guest, it did not feel remotely demonic. It felt a lot more like a sorcerer or hedge witch. For a moment, the Slayer wondered if her younger body wasn't capable of reading demonic auras like her future self could. Perhaps Anya was a half breed and her system wasn't reading the warning correctly. She tucked that worry away for further consideration before returning her attention to her visitor.

She asked a simple, leading question about Anya's relationship with D'Hoffryn and the former demon was off and running. After months of her boyfriend shushing her when she talked about her demonic life, the previous demon was thrilled to share. The task she had been assigned by Xander was soon completely forgotten as the brunet told ever more gruesome stories about her over thousand year stint as one of D'Hoffryn's vengeance conveyors.

Buffy's stomach started to rumble as Anya finished sharing a tale about one of the more memorable wishes she completed at the beginning of the 20th century where she cursed an abusive husband on behalf of his permanently injured wife who had been denied the right to sue her attacker by the US Supreme Court. The loud rumble caught the former demon's attention. She jumped from the chair.

"Oh man!" she exclaimed in horror as she swung around to stare at the clock on the mantel. "Aw, Xander is gonna be so mad at me," she lamented as she turned back to Buffy. When she noticed the Slayer's concern, she explained that she was supposed to invite her to the mall for some shopping and then lunch. The former demon started wheezing over her failure. Buffy attempted to interrupt her histrionics a couple times but nothing she offered seemed to sooth her.

"I am such a terrible girlfriend," Anya moaned as she pulled some cash out of her pocket. "I was supposed to take you shopping. Xander even gave me some cash to get something little."

Buffy chuckled and shook her head. She gave the other girl a hug and patted her on the back.

"You are a fine girlfriend. Xander wanted you to spend time with me because he was worried about me, right?"

Anya nodded and Buffy's grin widened in encouragement.

"Well, you did. We just spend a lovely time together and better still, it didn't cost anything."

"Hmm, saving money is a good idea," Anya conceded as she tucked the cash back into her pocket. "You never know when you might need a sizable nest egg. Although I have to admit, having new lingerie makes me feel very feminine and attractive. It is worth the expense."

Buffy grinned and agreed. When her stomach rumbled loudly again, the Slayer suggested that they head out to grab some lunch. She teased that at least they would be flirting with Anya's original plans. The former demon readily agreed and the pair were soon on their way to the Sunnydale Mall.

They fell easily into a companionable discussion as Buffy strategically asked questions about anything she could safely address in a casual conversation. The innocent inquisition didn't last though. Before long, the Eternal One forgot to collect data. She was having way too much fun just listening to Anya share things in her honest and quirky manner of speaking to bother with the technicalities of her life. By the time they reached the mall, both girls where chattering like long lost friends, which in a way, they actually were.

* * *

"Come out of there, Freddie-boy," coaxed the old man who could hear his dog whimpering from underneath the stairs to his back porch. The gentleman called the dog a number of times before it finally scrambled from its hiding place. The elderly man drew back in shock and started to cuss as the puppy caught its paw on its too large collar and bumped its nose on the ground. The pup whined and shook itself sending its ears flapping and the metal tag with his name and address to tinkling against its collar.

Despite his arthritis, the old man bent over and scooped up the squiggling canine. He absently rubbed its velvety ears before heading up the steps to his kitchen door.

"Stupid Sunnydale," the old man muttered as he set the puppy down on the linoleum. Freddie, who had been a full grown and well aged companion for the past almost dozen years, skidded across the floor towards his large food bowl. Once more, the puppy's clumsy paws caught on the collar and sent it tripping awkwardly.

The old man cussed again as he painfully reached to remove the oversized band hanging from the puppy's neck.

"Now I need to go buy some damn puppy chow," he grumbled in annoyance. Sometimes, the elderly gentleman really hated this town.

* * *

Across town at the mall, Xander settled into a booth at Patty's Pizza Parlor. His morning had been filled with rushing all over Sunnydale and he worried that it had been a useless endeavor. He sighed in relief as he noticed Riley enter the restaurant. His morning was not as waste after all.

From his position by the door, the soldier scanned the half filled seating area and moved confidently towards the back section of tables.

"Glad you got my message," Harris extended as Finn slid into the bench on the opposing side of the table.

"Graham heard from the MP at the guard house that you were looking for me."

Xander chuckled nervously. He absently shredded the paper napkin the waitress had left with him when he first arrived and told her that they would be ordering when they all arrived. He already had a sizable pile of shredded paper on the center of his side of the table.

"Yeah. I wasn't sure where else to find you. The psych department was clueless. Guess the replacement prof didn't keep the same teaching assistants. Lowell House on campus was completely deserted. Nothing but bare beds and empty drawers. Eerie actually. The local military base was my last shot at finding you."

"Dr. Mitchell, Dr. Walsh's university replacement, didn't think I was qualified to be his T.A. The military stripped the residence clean overnight. Dropped the elevators down the shafts and sealed the passages," the soldier confirmed quietly. Since he was contacted through the base, Finn figured he needn't comment on that one. Instead, he glanced expectantly over his shoulder at the rest of the dining room. "Anyone else joining us?"

"Yeah, Anya should be bringing Buffy along in about a half hour," Xander shared.

"They running late? Big shoe sale at Payless?"

Xander shook his head although the hidden dig on the girls' obsession with shoes made him grin.

"Nah. I was hoping for a chance to talk to you before they got here."

"You're worried about Buffy too," Riley stated more than asked.

"Well..." Xander hedged. "I always worry about the Buffster. Can't help it. Comes with the whole one girl in all the world against the hordes of hell thing."

Riley nodded in agreement before pointing out that there was more to it at this point.

Unsure about how the commando would take his inclination to disagree, Xander changed the subject. Where as Riley put all his faith in science, Xander had lived on the Hellmouth long enough and experienced enough magical phenomena to trust what Tara observed with her special abilities. If the witch insisted that Buffy was Buffy and not under the influence of an outside source, then he was going to believe her. As her friend, Xander just figured he needed to try to help minimize the trauma whenever the spell effects finally wore off completely.

"So what happens with you now? The whole court marshal thing still pending?"

Riley frowned as he shifted to sit a bit more stiffly. It was as if just mentioning the military discipline possibility had flipped the attention switch for the former commando.

"All the files from the base are gone. Deleted. Not sure if that was a side effect of Adam's plan or something ensured by the Pentagon to keep the records of the entire facility, well, off the record. Colonel McNamara didn't make it out of the Initiative. In fact, almost none of the higher ups did. Besides Major Ellis, Miller, Lopez, and myself were the highest ranking officers to survive. What we did during the battle to help actually saved a lot of lives of the science divisions but not a lot of the actual soldiers. They went down fighting. By some strange twist of fate though, I'm actually up for a commendation and not facing a military tribunal. Not that I think they would have started one anyway. Too many secrets to hide. This entire fiasco is better swept under the rug than brought to light."

"Yeah," Xander agreed with a sad smile. He understood better than most how the general populous was unable to handle the existence of the supernatural. He had lived all his life in Sunnydale and had suppressed all the strangeness just like his neighbors. Until Buffy arrived, that was. Then the scary was banged against his head repeatedly until he couldn't help but acknowledge it. "Wouldn't want the general public finding out about the things that go bump in the night or that the government was hiding the facts from the public."

"So what does that mean for you and your place in the military?" Harris prodded. He was concerned about the older guy's earlier reaction to the spell-affected Buffy and was hoping something might happen to smooth over the issues. That was his entire purpose with his plan. He wanted to help Buffy and Riley get over the problems stemming from the battle to take down the Initiative. Focusing on improving things with the military might prevent Riley from spending all his time worrying about the Slayer.

Riley shrugged.

"I don't have new orders yet. We've all been placed on emergency leave for two weeks. After that? I don't know. I might be able to request an early discharge or I might be assigned to the base outside of town. I could also end up being sent somewhere completely different. I won't know anything more until the military makes its mind up."

"Hmm, military minds. Wasn't there a joke somewhere about military intelligence?" Xander teased.

Riley was not amused but then nothing had been amusing for him in the past couple weeks. His best friend was killed and turned into a demon-cyborg hybrid, his mentor was murdered by her own sadistic creation, he discovered the military had been experimenting on his body, he'd been forced to go against the military in order to save a life, and now his girlfriend seemed possessed by the violent spirit of the primal slayer. It had been a rough time for the soldier and he was quickly losing sight of his faith in the government, his position in the military and his relationship with Buffy.

He shoved aside these thoughts in order to focus on the most pressing concern. Instead of commenting on Xander's supposed oxymoron, the soldier again tried to approach the subject of his spell affected girlfriend. This time, his companion listened to his concerns without redirection. As Riley wound down his long list of issues and fears with Buffy, Xander offered him sympathy but refused to agree with him. The younger man reminded Finn that Tara promised that Buffy was just Buffy.

"That can't be all there is to it," Riley huffed. "You saw her. She was as bloodthirsty as any demon when she was battling through the initiative. And Hostile 17. She's always hated him but suddenly he is walking her home and sharing dinner with her mom? I've been dating her for months and I haven't even been introduced to her mother yet."

There was no disguising the pain in his voice as Finn commented on not being included in Buffy's family life. The obvious exclusion hurt him deeply and the fact that Spike was on friendly terms with Joyce Summers grated harshly.

"You have to admit," he pressed, "there is something just completely wrong with her acting like that."

Xander shrugged.

"Look. I'm all with the lets stake Spike party. I mean, I've hated his guts since he bashed me in the head with a microscope, kidnapped me, and destroyed my first real relationship all in one drunken evening of trying to win back his psychotic lover."

"If you hate him so much, then why haven't you staked him yourself? He's helpless."

"Ugh... for all that I call him the chipped wonder and fangless, I somehow doubt Spike is truly helpless. He did a great psycho number on us Scoobies with just his mouth."

"Exactly. He was working with Adam. All the more reason to give him a dusty end."

"I agree," Xander confirmed but stopped Riley before he could jump on building a stake Spike plan. "Problem is that it isn't my call to make."

Riley appeared confused and a bit frustrated.

"Why not?"

"I'm not the Slayer."

"I just don't get that. Why do you think Buffy gets to make these decisions. Spike is evil. He should be dusted."

"Yeah, well the Initiative was evil. Do all the soldiers and scientists deserve to be fried?"

"They're humans," Finn blustered in offense. No matter how horrible the outcome at the secret military base, the soldier saw no way they could be compared to the soulless actions of monsters.

"You're right. Humans. So we all just step back after saving the planet from psycho-cyborgs bent on world domination and watch the government handle the post apocalypse fallout. Spike though? He's supernatural. Not human. Not supposed to be handled by the government. He's why there is a Slayer. It's her responsibility."

"Well, that's just a dumb way to do things."

"Not gonna fault you on that one but it doesn't make it any less true. Buffy's the Slayer. She was chosen and that's the way it is."

Riley tried to counter Xander's explanation. "She shouldn't have to shoulder all that responsibility by herself. She's just a girl."

When he noticed Riley's growing frown, Xander tried to sooth over the dispute.

"Yes. Buffy is a girl and she has always, and I mean, always wanted to enjoy being one with the gal-ness. She wants to date and party and wear pretty things that boggle our poor male minds. But she is also the Slayer and she is beyond amazing at it. Giles insists that Slayers have a short shelf life. Buffy is 19. Almost 19 and a half. I think Giles said it has been something like twenty-five years since a slayer even made it to 18. And before that, he said it had been since before World War II."

"There was a reason the Buffster was chosen. Somebody up there must have known what a great job she would do so poof... insta-Slayer. Somebody more powerful than you or me or the government decided that Buffy was it. That's why she gets to make the decision. I certainly wouldn't want the responsibility. I can't even handle a minimum wage job for more than a couple months. She has been the Slayer for years. As the Slayer, she gets the say on who gets dusted and who stays solid. Not me. If it was me, Angel would have fit in a dust buster long before he became Angelus and Spike would have enjoyed a dance in the sun on Thanksgiving."

"See. That makes sense. I mean, Buffy is sweet and loving and so full of life. I can see how that might seep into her decisions as the Slayer but I can't imagine her reacting quite so emotionally over the death of a blood sucker or two."

"Are you sure you're dating my best friend and not some other person?"

Riley threw a hostile grunt across the table. Xander offered a placating gesture along with an apology. He didn't take back the observation though. He had spent years watching Buffy's love and fear and passion entwine intimately with her Slayerness. Instead of explaining this and touching on the ever touchy topic of Angel, he again pointed out that Buffy had been the Slayer for years and she kept getting stronger and more aggressive in her duties as she aged. He suggested that the enjoining spell might have just accelerated what was already happening.

"I can't accept that,"Riley grumbled.

Xander shared a sympathetic look with his companion and sighed.

"Then you might have a serious problem, buddy."

Riley glanced down at the table and admitted that the teen might be right. He too sighed.

"Just tuck it away and think about it, Riley. Put on your smiley face for now and try to show Buffy how much you really love her. That's the important part, right?"

Finn raised his head and realized that Xander was grinning across the room instead of looking at him. He shifted so he could see also. For a moment, his worries flowed away. His breath caught and he smiled softly. Buffy, dressed in an adorable and innocent short green skirt with a buttery yellow sweater, had just entered the restaurant arm in arm with Xander's girlfriend.

Riley stood as Anya and Buffy approached the table. Their giggles carried across the room and a number of patrons turned and smiled at the pair of attractive females as they strolled towards their target. Their obvious pleasure seemed almost infectious. When they reached the booth, Anya slid into place beside Xander. She gave him a quick kiss and grinned proudly as she announced that her mission was a success. Xander patted her on the hand and smiled back at her enthusiasm. There were times when the teen really found his girlfriend to be so very cute. Seeing her happy, affectionate and appropriately focused made him buzz with his own happy feelings. It made him feel lucky that Anya cared for him. He nudged against her and wrapped his arm casually around her waist. Anya welcomed the affection and leaned into his one armed hug.

Buffy stood for a moment beside the table. A slight frown flickered across her face and replaced her previous smile. If she had been given the choice, the Slayer would have preferred to sit in the spot where Anya settled. It would have placed her in a power position where she could best protect her companions. Her dominate side would have been towards the open path beside the booth and she would have been on the outside for ease of movement. She also would have had a clear view of the entrance which was the most likely place for trouble to begin. Her eyes narrowed as she waited for Riley to slide back into the booth. When the pair stood there long enough for it to become uncomfortable for everyone, Buffy sighed and slid into the seat. She was now doubly annoyed because she was in the worst position from which to defend.

Riley finally sat again. He slipped into the seat and pressed against Buffy's side. When she moved further across the booth, the soldier inched over also.

Buffy stiffened and requested a bit of breathing space. For a moment, Finn appeared hurt by the comment. He did slide back across the bench though so that he was no longer pressed tightly against the Slayer's side. Buffy took a deep breath in relief and offered him a bright smile of thanks.

Noticing that the entire party was now seated, the waitress approached. She asked for their drink orders. Anya requested a Sprite and Xander added his desire to make it two. When the wait staff turned to collect the other couple's order, Riley immediately answered.

"I would like a bottle of Coors light and Buffy would like a Diet Coke," Riley stated before the Eternal One could ask what they had available. She shrugged. If memory served, she actually liked diet soda. It had been quite a while since she had any but she vaguely remembered that some of the demon bars still offered it for a while after humanity was destroyed. Although a bit annoyed by Riley ordering for her without asking her opinion, Buffy decided it wasn't worth addressing since his actions kept her from needing to ask a question that might have been revealing. The Eternal One suspected that this was not the first time they ate at this particular restaurant and she didn't want to draw more attention to her faulty memory.

With a nod and a failure to even glance at Buffy, the waitress scribbled on her pad and shuffled off to the drink station.

Before she had turned fully, Xander jumped right into an animated discussion about toppings. Anya countered his request with different choices and the discussion quickly dissolved into good-natured teasing about each others lousy tastes in foods. When Xander pleaded with Buffy to break the stalemate, the Slayer just laughed and waved her hands.

"Leave me out of the whole topping topic," she countered as she waved her hands in the air as if warding off the discussion. "I'm so hungry I would eat smoked yam-karim right now."

Anya cringed and shuddered while Xander and Riley just stared at Buffy with similar expressions of confusion.

"Yam-karim is thick sludge-like residue from a karimtus demon carcass," Anya offered in helpful explanation. "Its a bit like tofu in consistency but tastes like what I imagine is a cross between dirty gym socks and burnt hair."

Riley looked horrified at the thought while Xander shuddered in disgust.

"We are totally having pepperoni and mushrooms not demon sludge toppings," the teen announced. When the waitress returned with their drinks, Xander passed on the request for the pizza. He then rushed into a rambling discussion about the lack of job prospects at the employment center the last couple weeks. He did his goofy best to keep the conversation both lively and away from any potentially negative topics.

His efforts made it almost the entire way through the meal before things spiraled out of his control. The teen had paused to take a large drink at a point when the other male happened to have an empty mouth.

"So, are we going to address the elephant in the room or just keep ignoring it," Riley questioned as he pushed away his plate which sported a partially finished crust discarded on it.

"There's an elephant?" Anya asked curiously as she started scanning the room in hopes of spying it.

"Oh," she added almost sadly as she settled back in her seat. "You meant the metaphorical elephant involving Buffy and not a real one."

Xander rolled his eyes but patted his girlfriend on the arm as an offer of comfort. It was inevitable. He had tried but he should have known the train wreck was bound to happen some time during the meal. He just silently hoped that it stayed reasonably quiet. He liked Patty's and didn't want to be banned from it like they were at Cups and Cones. The whole Buffy slaying a couple fuzzy demons with one of their ice cream scoops followed by the explosion of the dead bodies kinda killed their welcome there.

"Yeah, that one," Riley confirmed as he shifted towards Buffy. His comment pulled back Xander's wandering thoughts. All three diners turned their attention to the Slayer.

The Eternal One snagged the last slice of pizza and bit off the tip. She placed it on her empty plate before informing everyone that there was nothing wrong with her. When she reached for her pizza slice again, Riley grabbed her forearm and halted her movement in hopes of catching her attention.

"I think you're mistaken, Buffy," the soldier started. He sounded very confident in his interpretation of the issue.

"I just need you to listen to me," Riley pleaded when he noticed the perturbed expression on her face. The frown lines smoothed as she took a cleansing and calming breath.

"Fine," Buffy replied evenly before shifting her gaze to her forearm. "Now get your hand off me."

Riley released her arm and pulled back as if her skin had burned him. His eyes narrowed in annoyance at his unconscious reaction of fear to the underlying threat in Buffy's simple order. It bothered him that some non-conscious part of him suddenly found his girlfriend scary. From the moment he met her, she had held his attention. This reaction was different. It was like a creeping warning up the back of his neck. It reminded him of the feeling he sometimes got when walking in the dark without any form of weapon or companions. It was a primitive response and he felt it had no place in his more enlightened life.

"This is why I am so worried. You are not acting like yourself," the soldier accused.

Buffy tilted her head slightly.

"How do you expect me to be acting?"

"Like my girlfriend and not like I'm some disgusting slug that is eating your garden."

Buffy shrugged.

"Perhaps you should stop acting like said slug?"

Xander groaned.

"You know, one time this woman wished her husband actually was a slug and I..."

"Not now, An," Xander pleaded as he resisted the urge to bang his head on the table. He should have known better than to get them together in public. Visions of future Patty Pizzas floated out the window in his minds eye.

"Slug... me?" Riley sputtered.

Buffy pushed away her plate and wiped her hands and lips with a paper napkin. She then turned fully towards her accuser. Again, her tone was level and lacking in any type of discernible emotion. The very absence of any anger or sadness actually made the soldier even more uncomfortable.

"Well, maybe not a slug but certainly not in the manner I would expect a significant other to act."

"Did I ask you to barge into my home last night making accusations?" she inquired.

"How about, did I ask you to try to dust someone who helped save almost a hundred lives?"

This question earned a stern expression from the Slayer tossed towards Xander as well as Riley.

"Or how about the way you seem to disregard the talents of a gentle yet powerful witch who assured you that I am not _**wrong**_ , like you keep insisting?"

"It wasn't like that," Riley insisted as he shifted back towards Buffy and grabbed onto her hand in hopes of connecting with her mentally as well as the easier physical manner.

Buffy stiffened for the first time.

"How long have you been a bully?" She questioned with a raised eyebrow that reminded Xander creepily of a certain bleached vampire.

"Bully?" Riley repeated. Hurt and confusion took equal turns in his voice.

"Yes, bully," the Slayer confirmed as she reached out with her free hand and snagged her remaining drink. She casually took a sip then lifted their joined hands. "You use your body as a way of intimidating other. You are larger than the average guy so you might have acquired the bad habit naturally but you do it often. You touch and grab in instances when you should keep your hands to yourself."

Buffy easily pulled her hand free from Riley's grasp.

"Last night, you used your size and stance to intimidate Tara when she told you something you didn't want to hear."

Xander broke into the conversation.

"Riley would never do anything to hurt Tara," he promised.

"Perhaps not," Buffy confirmed as she glanced over at her friend. "That doesn't mean he didn't use his size and stance to frighten her."

She shifted back to glaring at Riley.

"You are doing it even now. You have stiffened your body and are pressing into my space on the booth. I am a small person. If I wasn't the Slayer, it would be easy to be cowed by your bulk even if it lacks true menace."

"I'm not a bully," Riley stated firmly. "And I think you calling me one is just a way for you to misdirect and avoid addressing the real problem here."

"The real problem being me not acting as you see fit? Like your girlfriend should be acting."

"Yes," Riley confirmed in an exasperated tone.

Xander's head banged against the table as Anya stifled a giggle behind her hand. They both knew that Riley was flirting with being tossed on his ass if he didn't ease off the superior attitude. Their expectations were not misplaced as the Slayer sat straighter and a creepy, almost feral smile settled on her lips. The only thing missing from the smile was fangs to complete the shiver-worthy effect.

"Well there is a very simple solution to this problem. We no longer need to maintain any form of relationship, girlfriend or otherwise. That way you will not be finding fault with my behavior and I will not be annoyed by your rude, dismissive and, at times, condescending attitude."

Riley gasped in shock. He was so surprised by Buffy's announcement that he stood up and leaned against the opening of the booth. An almost panicky desperation rushed through his body.

"No... no... this isn't what I wanted..."

"Obviously," Buffy replied before she pointed out that he was once again using his body to loom over the immediate area. She followed the observation with the fact that she had the right to make her own decisions about her relationships and that she chose to no longer associate with the distrustful soldier.

"As the Slayer, my life is stressful enough. I don't need you adding to it."

"But I don't mean to add to it. I just want to help you. Support you."

"Change me."

"No."

"Actually, you do," Anya broke into the conversation. Three pairs of eyes shifted onto the former demon. "Buffy says she is fine. Tara says she is fine. I spent the morning with her and I think she is fine. Yes, she seems a bit more mellow about some things and she might be a bit more intense on the whole slaying topic but I figure that exposure to the spirit of the slayer must have added a ton of maturity and insight to Buffy's frame of reference. It's a primal force that has been around since the beginning of human time. How could it not change her? It's like any other life experience. She grew from it and you want her to fit back in your frilly little box that was the previous Buffy."

Indignation dripped from Anya's voice as she glared at Riley. She completely ignored Xander's attempt to quiet her and continued her defense of her now firmly established friend.

"Buffy is also right. You are a bully. Your behavior is no different than hundreds of men I cursed in the past. You use your size to place yourself in a perceived position of power. As a teaching assistant, you sought an unethical relationship with someone who was under your direction as a student thereby cementing your position of power in the couple, and you take away even simple choices such as what she was going to drink today. It's all about you being in control and you being the power."

"The problem is that the Slayer doesn't need anyone to be her power. She is the power and the rest of us just have to accept it."

"I don't see you doing that. You are one of those types that needs your masculinity stroked by the pretty little woman and while Buffy might be willing to do that, the Slayer isn't wired that way."

"And I won't even start on how unsatisfying you must be in bed..."

Xander placed his hand over Anya's mouth when he realized how close she was skating to an absolute guy no-no for discussion in public. No male wanted others to hear even a hint of a disparaging comment about his sexual abilities. In that direction, only pain and suffering could be found.

"Buffy?" Riley pleaded as he shifted his attention from Anya and tried to control the growing flush of embarrassment traveling over his face and neck. Although he couldn't refute her original arguments with any type of logical facts, Riley still felt Anya and Buffy were wrong about him. There was no way he was a bully. He was the type person who protected others from predators.

"I'm sorry Riley," Buffy replied firmly but with noticeable warmth in her tone. It was the first time since the discussion began that she showed even a hint of emotion. "I don't want to hurt you but I think this is for the best."

Riley took a deep breath and stood a bit straighter. He glared at the Slayer and waited for her to soften towards him. She didn't.

"You're wrong," he muttered before snapping sharply around and stalking from the restaurant.

The trio watched in silence as he exited before Xander broke into the quiet.

"Are you sure this is what you want, Buffster?"

She shrugged. Although she didn't remember her previous relationship with the soldier, there was something there that just didn't feel right to the Eternal One. It was almost an instinctual type thing and the Slayer had learned to listen to those instincts over the years. They had saved her a lot of both physical and emotional agony over the millenniums. She wasn't about to ignore them now when she had little fact on which to base her actions. Buffy stole a glance at Anya as she realized that the former demon had pointed out some pretty telling tidbits that supported her gut reaction.

"He's what you wanted though," Xander argued on behalf of the dumped. "He wasn't Angel. There was no doomed love affair destined to kill us all if you slipped into bed. He would be there for you if you allowed him. Riley might be your only chance at normal."

Buffy nodded and took a deep breath. She smiled softly. Both Xander and Anya melted a bit at the heavily weighted depth in her eyes. She reached across the table and placed her left hand over Anya's fingers and her right one over Xander's hand. She squeezed ever so gently.

"You are both wonderful," she murmured with a hint of awe in her voice. "You truly care about me. And not just as the Slayer. You care about all of me. I can't tell you how much that means."

Her voice caught slightly as tears rimmed her eyes. The Eternal One willed them away so she could focus on sharing something important she had learned. It was one of the scary facts she could never escape no matter how hard she tried.

"You say that Riley is normal. Well, I'm not normal. I never will be normal."

When Xander opened his mouth to argue, Buffy stilled him with a shake of her head and another gentle squeeze on his hand.

"It's okay to not be normal," she offered before chuckling. "Hellfire and damnation, neither of you are exactly normal either."

"A former demon with over a thousand years of experiences and an accomplished demon hunter without a single magical enhancement. Sounds pretty extraordinary to me."

"I think we can just be happy being extraordinary together."

Silence fell over the booth for a moment while the trio basked in the friendly warmth. It was finally shattered by Anya.

"Hmm, so that just leaves us with one real concern. Where can we find you an extraordinary friend to give you extraordinary orgasms."

Just this once, Xander didn't hush her sexual comment. Instead he threw normal into the wind and joined Buffy in her laughter.


	6. Chapter 6

Seven monks dressed in brown robes and sandals sat around an age stained oak table. Books and scrolls covered the center of the workspace and one of the monks sat silently taking notes while the other six argued in Czech over their next course of action.

"We can't keep shifting the key from location to location. The Beast has risen to the surface and has discovered the last three hiding places. We need another option," argued Brother Petr with an undercurrent of frustration and anger evident in his voice. Although the Order of Dagon normally encouraged the members of the brotherhood to maintain a certain level of stoic responsibility, everyone's emotions were running high.

Ever the keeper of the peace, Brother Bohdan offered his understanding of the other monk's agitation but counseled the entire group to remember that they needed to remain calm in order to better approach a solution to their dilemma.

Petr sighed in disgust but was forestalled from retorting when the oldest holy man still remaining in the order spoke softly in response.

"I cannot see how we are to be anything but emotional," Brother Karel offered. His opinion was a whisper from a voice feeble and drained by age and illness. "The Beast has decimated our ranks. She has utterly destroyed the Northern Monastery and murdered every member of the Order that resided there. She slaughtered the initiates and tortured our brothers. Likewise, the monastery in the hills outside Tabor has been lost. The Beast also killed the five monks who maintained the hidden bolthole in the caves of Uhlířský Hill. Unlike our previous belief, the seismic activity of the volcano was not enough to cover its power. The doomed brothers barely had time to gather and forward the key from their chambers to new custodians in Zbrosov before the Beast arrived. Hopefully, the base in the Aragonite caves will remain hidden for a time. Perhaps the crystals will help absorb any of the residual magics and keep the site secret while we find an alternative location for the key. One outside of our province."

"We are lost and the world is doomed," lamented Brother Oldrich. An unrivaled pessimist, overweight and red-faced monk could be counted on to bemoan every topic broached but never to offer any viable or preferable solutions. If he was not the most magically talented monk remaining in the order, he would never have been included in planning of anything more important than what wine to have with supper. It was a testament to how grave the situation the Order of Dagon currently faced that none spoke against his woeful predictions or even pressed for his removal from the council.

Bohdan shifted to the two youngest monks at the table. He requested their reports on the data they were charged to collect. The younger men cringed. Neither of their task forces had found the perfect solution despite the combined efforts of more than three dozen magical practitioners and researchers who had been assigned to the duties.

Papers were shuffled nervously and pleading glances were exchanged between the reporting monks. Their silent interplay determined who would share their bad news first but was unnoticed by the older council members. The younger men completed a mental game of rock, paper scissors where neither side could actually win. Both monks had to share.

With a pinched glare towards his rival, Brother Jarek sighed and delved into his findings. His team had investigated the possibility of shifting the key from this reality to another dimension. They had speculated that since the key was a portal between worlds that perhaps it could be sent to another one where the Beast had no access to it. It would remove all access from the Horror. Although its anger would be tragic, it would not be apocalyptic. Unfortunately, all the researchers found were dead ends and dire consequences of this proposed idea. The key was too powerful and unstable to safely pass through another portal and a portal of its creation would set off the very catastrophe they were hoping to avoid. Either way, hell on Earth would be the ultimate outcome.

The gathered monks nodded in disappointed understanding before turning to Brother Vaclav. The small, nervous man shuffled the pages of his notes. He looked up at his audience and quickly back to his wrinkled papers. After a few deep breaths to calm his frazzled nerves, he began to outline the findings of his make-shift committee.

"Umm, I found... that is... we found that transmogrification is a viable option for the energy that is the um... that is the key. It would require the energy be tied intimately with the energy of another force but it can be done with minimal danger to all involved."

Vaclav shuffled his papers again and missed the sudden flashes of hope that lit on the other monks' faces. With his next words though, he dashed a bit of the good will.

"Of the three viable outlets uncovered, Los Angeles, Devon, and Sunnydale, uh... only one was found to be a strong... um, that is a viable possibility for consideration."

"Although the Coven holds more power than our entire Order, they lack the proper... um... that is to say... ah, they lack the proper resources for our needs."

"Bunch of lily-white goddess wanna-bes," muttered Oldrich quietly but not softly enough that all those assembled couldn't hear his disparaging comments. "Too caught up in the proper balance to be of any use in real battle."

Vaclav squeaked. The monk actually held a deep respect for the ideals practiced by the Coven in Devon but he would have to admit that Oldrich was sadly correct in his overall impression0. His comments may have been crude but they were none the less accurate. The Coven would be unable to face the Beast properly when their actions would be dictated by the natural balance. The key was conceived in another dimension. It was unnatural in its Earthly nature therefore the witches would be hard pressed to be compelled to protect it.

"What of LA?" prompted Bohdan in hopes of avoiding any additional disparaging comments from his fellow monk.

Vaclav shook his head and explained that the volatile nature of the souled vampire's position as a representative for the side of good had to be tempered with the entirely realistic possibility that the champion could and would switch sides with the loss of his soul. The soul curse was explained and its recent breaking and replacement was outlined. Although seasoned on the violence experienced by the Order of Dagon through the years as they sought to keep their magical burden from the many incarnations of the Beast, they were uncomfortable hearing how creative and personal Angelus could become.

"The possession of the key by one such as Angelus would be as detrimental to all linked existences as it would be if the Beast attained it," the presenting monk added after he outlined some of the horrors his team found during the repeated mind probes on the vampire. "Not to mention, his morality even with the soul is questionable at times. He has, after all, a demon by nature if not by active circumstance."

"So you feel that the Slayer is the only viable solution?" Karal confirmed as he attempted to shift the focus towards the one option that was not refuted.

A guilty flash passed over Vaclav's face for just a moment before he nodded.

"Yes, yes," he confirmed. "We did confirm that the Slayer contains a strong enough life force to tie the key to physical form. In fact, we found a number of individuals on the Hellmouth with the potential to counter the pull of energy without causing abnormalities in reality. I did limit my... um... notes into the individuals associated with the Slayer. There were other practitioners in the region also but I felt if the Powers sanctioned the Slayer then she and her companions were the safest choice."

"So we are going to send the key to the most active Hellmouth in the world?" Oldrich grumbled harshly. "We are attempting to keep the power from a Hellbeast and so we propose to place it in the one location where hell is closer to the surface of our reality than anywhere else in the world. Sounds idiotic if you as me."

"Well the Vatican, the Ordinis Sancti, and the Rosicrucian Order have all refused to provide the aid of a Celestial location so we are left with what we have," snapped Bohdan in an unexpected fit of pique. The monk immediately felt embarrassed by his words and tone. He took a deep breath in the unexpected silence after his outburst then turned back to Vaclav. "Please, continue with your observations," he requested.

"Yes... um, that is we conducted numerous mental probes of the Slayer and other individuals in the region."

The young holy man handed neatly written papers to each of the assembled council. He explained that they investigated the Slayer as well as those that surrounded her. Psychological, social and mystical where analyzed and itemized on the sheets. The humans who lacked mystical gifts were given cursory reviews but there were in depth reviews of the personalities, histories and supernatural skills of the Slayer's companions with powers. Besides the biography of the Slayer, the papers revealed two sorcerers, a hedge witch, a white witch and, strangely enough, an unsouled vampire in the region.

"It seems this Chosen One is a bit unorthodox but she seems perfect for our needs," Brother Petr announced happily. Some of the frustration and anger had leaked from his tense body and he offered the younger monk an encouraging grin. "We should start making plans for transmogrification and insertion of the key."

Everyone but Oldrich immediately voiced their support of the plan.

Despite the majority vote, Vaclav cringed.

"Could we not investigate securing Angelus soul so that the curse could not be broken? Slayers never last very long," cautioned Oldrich. "It is in their natures to die young. It would be useless for us to spend months preparing to transfer guardianship only to have the Slayer slaughtered before we can use her. The vampire has lived hundreds of years as well as survived ages in a hell dimension. Isn't he a better choice?"

"Even with the soul affixed permanently, Angel has exhibited some disturbing lapses in judgment," countered Vaclav. "At times, he seems to make decisions that are more harmful than helpful for the side of good. In addition, he has a tendency towards selfishness that makes me leery to entrust him with such a precious burden. Our probes showed that he felt the Slayer was the epic love of his life and yet he abandoned her when he found himself unable to fulfill his desires with her. It would be disastrous if he likewise were to toss aside the key because its stewardship became too large of a burden."

Oldrich grunted but offered no more arguments even though he was intrigued by the concept of twisting the soul curse. He would have enjoyed pitting his skills on mutating a magic supposedly lost at the turn of the last century.

"So we start work tomorrow on the transfer of care for the key to the Sunnydale Slayer," Bohdan announced as if the matter was closed.

When the others started to move to rise from the table, Vaclav cleared his throat nervously and pulled his remaining papers against his chest.

"Um... I know it was a good plan but um... there seems to have been some changes recently... that is, within the past couple days, which makes the transfer um... unlikely to be successful."

There was a collective groan as the monks shifted their attention back to Vaclav. They resettled in their seats with varying degrees of annoyance. He offered an apology and rushed into an explanation of the strange phenomena that had fundamentally changed the Slayer. He explained about the enjoining spell as well as what he believed was the cause of the effect on the Slayer given the memories they had seen with probes into her friends' minds. His report was rushed and missing the truth given they had been only able to glean information from the individuals associated with the Slayer and not the Chosen One herself.

"So why can't we just shove the memories you have already recorded into this transformed Slayer?" Petr questioned. He didn't want to abandon the small spark of hope the plan had kindled. He was also curious as to why they did not have direct information from the Chosen One instead of just her friends.

"Absolutely not," Vaclav forcefully stated. The strength of his conviction astounded the other monks and they waited for him to explain. The younger monk rarely showed any backbone; it served to accent the gravity of his position.

The young man described how the last attempt to deeply engage the mind of the Slayer led to disastrous results. The two monks who had been tapping into her essence were now in a coma. A third one, who had attempted to reach the vegetative victims had brushed up against the life force and muted memories that the other two had fully engaged. Brother Ivan had shattered the link and run sobbing from the infirmary. He was not see at supper the previous night and did not attend prayers afterwards.

"This morning, Brother Ivan was found hanging from the rafters in the quiet room. Whatever he encountered in his brief brush in the Slayer's current mind had been too much for his sanity. For fear of repeat injuries, I would not venture another attempt to connect with the Slayer's force."

"So it is hopeless?" whispered Karel before he fell into a fit of coughing.

"No, no... not hopeless," Jarek cut into the discussion before anyone could agree with the elderly monk. An idea took form in the other young monk's mind and he hoped he would be given a chance to present it.

"But it..." Vaclav started.

"No, no... it is all right here," Jarek clamored in excitement. He waved the detailed papers in the air. "The Slayer. She is still the Slayer, correct?"

Vaclav nodded. The memories from Tara McClay firmly confirmed this.

"Then she will protect the key no matter who is the guardian. Whatever power has boosted her essence has not changed her from being who she is...er... was. She will fight with all she has to ensure the safety of the key if we give it to one of her close friends."

Jarek glanced around the table hoping to see any hint of support for his interpretation of the situation. Most of the monks revealed little in their expressions until he met Bohdan's gaze. Jarek smiled as the older man turned to Vaclav. The only decision available was made.

"Send the key to the witch."

* * *

"Don't you have anything better to do than skulk about in cemeteries?" Spike barked at Giles as the unwelcome guest pushed open the creaky door of the vampire's crypt.

The former Watcher sighed in annoyance and reminded the chipped vampire that cemeteries were stock and trade for Slayers and their Watchers.

Spike snorted. He doubted most Watchers ever approached the level of participation that his current visitor shared with his Slayer's patrols. The vamp suspected most pointed their girls in the direction of their death while maintaining their own safe distance from scary places like crypts and caves. Spike had never encountered nor even heard about the Watcher for his first Slayer. Granted, he had caught a glimpse of the Nicki Wood's Watcher once during the months he spent in New York but that didn't come close to how often Rupert Giles dropped into the metaphorical trenches with Buffy Summers. Previously, the young Chosen Ones were on their own in many of the ways that were most important. His first impression of the current Slayer never did change. Buffy wasn't alone. She broke the secret barrier of Slayerdom and dragged her friends along with her.

Strangely enough, the past week had shown an increase in his not being alone either. Spike had enjoyed the unexpected shift. He was never good at being alone. It was one of the reasons he stayed in Sunnydale despite being home to so many serious kickings of his ass. At least here, he had a place. It might not have been a particularly welcome position but it still gave him the illusion of belonging somewhere. Given the unexpected appearance of Rupert Giles, the vampire suspected that he was not the only one intrigued by the resent change in his persona non grata status.

"So what brings you by this sunny afternoon?" Spike questioned as he moved towards his stolen mini-fridge and grabbed a bottle of cold pigs blood. He sniffed the contents, grimaced a bit at the unspoiled pig blood, then chugged the cold congealed contents. he barely suppressed the urge to shudder at its foul, flat taste.

"Must you do that in my presence?" Giles grumbled in annoyance.

"Is my home, no? Don't see me stomping into your flat and telling you when to eat."

Giles sighed but admitted that the vampire had a point.

His agreement startled Spike. The vamp set the red coated but mostly empty jar on the top of the fridge and stalked across the dusty crypt. He stopped within reach of his visitor and waited.

"Why ya here, Rupes?"

"Um, yes," Giles replied a bit nervously as he shifted a messenger bag off his shoulder. From its interior, he pulled a bottle of alcohol. He set the unopened bottle on the top of the stone sarcophagus at the side of the spacious tomb.

"That for me?"

"Perhaps."

Spike smirked. The vampire turned and slid onto the top of the sarcophagus. He reached for the bottle and tilted it absently. He clicked his tongue at the Pusser's Overproof Rum. Spike was impressed. As far as he knew, the green label rum was impossible to purchase outside of Germany due to the alcohol content. It was even more potent than the gunpowder proof rum that the Royal Navy used to ration to their sailors. This bottle of rum actually stood a chance of offering him a buzz without requiring that he resort to multiple bottles.

"Someone was naughty. Ain't exactly somethin' you can buy off the shelf in California."

"Quite, but it will be worth the effort if you are up for a trade."

"Not exactly the floor of The City but I'm bored. Let's see if you can tempt me," Spike replied as he leaned back and stretched his legs out in front of him in a practiced picture of ease.

Giles ignored the bit of disrespect and addressed his side of the bargain. The Watcher had been observing Buffy for the past two weeks. After the debacle that was their attempted intervention, Rupert had been keeping quiet but taking notes of everything he observed with his Slayer. Overall, he hadn't seen anything glaring that caused him concern. Tara's observation that she was Buffy only more so actually seemed to have merit. It had been years since Giles had seen this level of excitement and energy from the teen. It reminded him of her early days in Sunnydale when the younger girl was intent on living her life first and embracing her slaying second.

Buffy was spending a lot of time with her mother. She had offered to help at the gallery during summer break and was working four days a week there. The two Summers women seemed to be closer than he had ever seen them. Joyce had even accepted the strange little demon pet that the Slayer had saved.

Although she appeared to have recaptured a lost zest for life, she wasn't avoiding her responsibilities. The Slayer went patrolling each night. She hadn't seemed to mind his company the first couple nights but had requested that she have some nights to haunt the cemeteries by herself. Giles could find no fault with her slaying. In truth, he noticed a serious improvement in her fighting style, efficiency of movement, and general battle sense. Buffy had always been creative and determined with her fights but she had certainly improved after her close contact with the Slayer spirit.

Additionally, the Slayer seemed to have started spending more time with Anya than she ever had previously. Although Giles found the former demon a bit off-putting, this developing friendship thrilled Xander to no end. He was tickled that they were getting along so well and that it meant he was included in more of Buffy's life than he had been recently.

From Giles' observations, only two things seemed off. The first was Buffy's relationship with Willow. Their status as best friends was shattered. Around the others, the Slayer was friendly and warm. Not so around Willow. For some reason, Buffy kept her distance from the other girl. She became tense and agitated when they were together. The blond would leave or move away whenever the redhead approached her. She had refused to participate in any of the spells that Willow had wanted to attempt in order to check on Buffy's mental and physical health. She had only consented to a couple simple spells to ease their concerns and she had insisted that they had to be performed by Tara instead of Willow. Although he could understand a bit of her reservations with Willow's spell casting given his time spent blind, Giles could easily see how frustrated and alienated the novice witch was feeling.

His second concern also involved one of Buffy's relationships. It was why he had gotten a friend overseas to overnight the powerful rum that he was offering as payment for information from Spike. In simple terms, Rupert was worried about how much time his Slayer was spending with the chipped vampire. In the past week, he had heard that Spike came to dinner at the Summer's house three times, that the vampire had joined her in taking out a pair of Githb'rn demons last night, and that Willow saw them playing pool at the Bronze on a night Buffy refused to go dancing with the rest of the Scoobies. The redhead said that Buffy had been joking and laughing and having a good time. Although Willow reported that Spike hadn't been as excited, she observed that he hadn't being his regularly snarky self either.

"You've been spending a good bit of time with Buffy lately."

Spike smirked and shrugged slightly. He uncrossed his legs and shifted until he was sitting forward. The vamp leaned his elbows on his knees and winked at his guest.

"She seemed to have dislodged the stake she had shoved up her arse," he replied with an evil grin.

Giles huffed in disgusted annoyance at the crudeness. He once again wondered why he was even bothering with this discussion. The quick memory of when he learned about Buffy and Riley and their unexpected breakup flashed through his mind. His Slayer had seemed unemotional over the entire affair and that made Giles a bit uneasy. Her reasons for the separation all had merit but he had expected a bit more grief and tears. Perhaps even some ice cream and chocolate. Instead of pitching a fit, Buffy had been pleasantly mature. This additional minor strangeness served as a great reminder to the Brit as to why he was visiting someone he would sooner dust than share drinks.

"Be that as it may, I was hoping that you might share your observations of your recent times together," the former Watcher prodded as he shoved aside his thoughts to focus on the current discussion. He might not like William the Bloody but Giles knew he had a keen mind for observation.

"Nothing to really offer," Spike shared as he reached for his coat and pulled a pack of cigarettes from the pocket. He pulled a lighter from his back pocket and lit his smoke. "Bout all I can say is the chit seems to have abandoned her tragic taste in men along with her stake-ectomy."

"You don't find her recent behavior odd?"

"Odd? Not exactly."

Stealing a bit from his charge's habits, Rupert rolled his eyes. "You don't find it strange that Buffy is spending time with you, a souless demon?"

Spike shrugged noncommittally.

"She's allowing that little gilly-monster to sleep in her bed. Doubt spending a few hours killing baddies or moving sculptures with me is anything of note."

A bit of a nasty light settled in Spike's eyes as he added "Of course, wouldn't be the first demon she allowed in her bed."

Giles stiffened and his eyes narrowed. Before he could blast the vampire, Spike made the situation more tense by opening his mouth again.

"Course, her Billy-gilly has to be a better bed partner than Ole Peaches."

Giles pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers on his other hand. "Spike, please," he begged. "Can you be helpful instead of a pain for just once in your cursed existence."

Spike flicked his only half smoked cigarette across the room and stood. Energy and anger suddenly pulsed off the bleached blonde and Giles took a wary step backwards even though he logically knew Spike wasn't able to attack him. Logic could only do so much to prevent the natural reaction to flee from a dangerous predator.

"Been helpful a number of times in my lifetime, Watcher. You're not sporting a wooden leg compliments of Angelus and his chain saw. You're not a Fyarl demon locked in a cage compliments of the soldier boys. Hell, you're not even taking tea with Acathla since I so kindly helped your Slayer with her ex-induced apocalypse problem."

His hand snapped out and snagged the bottle of rum. With a vicious twist of his wrist, Spike tore free the cap and quickly gulped down a quarter of the contents of the bottle. As he lowered the liquor bottle, his gaze blazed against Giles' eyes.

"Think Red might have had it aright. You are blind. Blind and stubborn and... bloody hell... just leave me alone."

The surge of emotion drained from the vampire as quickly as it had roared to life. His shoulders slumped and he seemed to deflate. He sighed as he walked across the room and stepped on his smoldering cigarette. He turned back to his now wary visitor.

"Don't think you need to worry your head about your Slayer. Think she's just grown up a bit faster than expected. Nothing wrong with her. Just more mature is all."

"Spike..."

"Look, Watcher, if I see anything worth noting, I'll stop by."

Giles stared at the vampire for a moment as he attempted to determine Spike's sincerity. In the end, he decided he had gotten as much as the vampire was willing to give. He nodded then turned for the door. He shoved it open and stepped into the late afternoon sunshine.

"Thanks for the rum, Mate," Spike offered as he lifted a salute of the bottle towards Rupert's back. The crypt door slammed shut as the only response.

"And they say vamps have no manners," Spike grumbled to the silence of his empty stone walls.

* * *

At the sound of her name, Anya glanced up from the toenails she was carefully lacquering a brilliant shade of red to match the fingernails Buffy had done earlier. She watched with a smile as her friend dropped to sit beside her on the couch. The Slayer plopped a full bowl of popcorn onto the coffee table and pulled her legs up towards her chest. They had needed a refill of snacks before starting their second movie of the night. Although she had called attention to her return, Buffy wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into space instead of actually talking with her companion. In the past week, Anya had come to recognize the expression as the Slayer's seriously thinking look. Unlike some of Buffy's recent strange silences, she only had to wait a few seconds before the blond turned her focus back to the former demon.

"Do you think truth must be shared at all times with family?"

Figuring this might lead to a serious talk and not just a quick half thought to kill time, Anya capped her polish then mirrored Buffy's position. Leaning to the side, she carefully set the bottle on the floor beside the nest of blankets where Billy-gilly slept peacefully. Anya rubbed his back lightly then settled back into place on the sofa. She wiggled her now freshly painted toes as she considered the question.

"You know, I am not up on all the recent human stuff but I think that depends," she finally answered with a thoughtful frown. "Sometimes, keeping quiet about the truth is a kindness. Like when Willow wears that fuzzy pink sweater. You know the one."

Anya flicked her fingers about over her chest as if that would help Buffy remember exactly which outfit she was referencing. The Eternal One had no clue which shirt she meant but nodded encouragingly as if she understood perfectly. The Slayer had found herself doing that a lot lately. As a coping strategy, it was proving effective since she had realized that most of the folks who claimed to be her friends mostly wanted her to nod and agree with them instead of voicing any type of dissenting opinion. Anya didn't disappoint her. She picked the cue right up and kept talking.

"It clashes horribly with her hair but no one ever says anything because they don't want to hurt her feelings. The truth is that sweater is hideous, possibly a cruelty against humanity, but for some unfathomable reason, it is better that we not tell her about it. She so needs to improve her wardrobe. More greens and blacks would benefit her coloring."

Buffy grinned at the minor tangent then nodded once again at her friend to encourage her to continue on the original topic.

"Also, Xander is always telling me not to share details about our sex life with everyone. I never share stuff that isn't true but it still makes him uncomfortable. Maybe thinking about the other person's reaction to the truth would be what determines if it needs shared? If it will be upsetting, you shouldn't share?"

"What about big stuff?" Buffy offered. "I don't mean the apocalypse-y kinda stuff but the stuff with the major imports for the person?"

For a moment, Anya frowned.

"Buffy, do you have a secret you want to share?"

The blond lightly worried her lower lip with her upper teeth as she grimaced slightly.

"Ummm..."

Excited, Anya shifted so that her legs were crossed like a kindergarten kid at story time. She leaned forward and grinned expectantly.

"Do you have a juicy secret truth that you want to tell me?" the brunet coaxed. She inched slightly closer and her eyes glowed with excitement. "Oh... Oh... Have you found an extraordinary person to give you extraordinary orgasms?"

Buffy couldn't help herself. She giggled even as she shook her head in denial. More than anyone else around her, Anya found little ways to tickle all the right mental places for the Eternal One. Her simple honesty and unfettered enthusiasm were comforting.

"No... sadly no orgasms for Buffy," she offered. "But I do kinda want to talk to you about something important. It's something I want to share with someone. Almost have to at this point. I really want to rely on someone but I don't think anyone else is remotely prepared to hear it. I suspect they would just get wound up over me. It would just make more problems."

Buffy sighed and hugged her legs tighter against her chest.

"You've been alive a lot longer than the others. I think you might understand."

Anya reached out and rubbed her friend's arm.

"I can try. No promises though. I am still relearning all this human stuff. Too much time as a demon sorta skews a person's perspective."

Buffy raised her eyebrows and made a tiny shrugging motion with her shoulders.

"Thinking that actually might help with your understanding."

"Then I am all ears," Anya confirmed before she frowned. "Well, not all ears. I have the full body thing going but my ears will be very ready to hear you and your secret."

Buffy giggled again before the amusing expression slipped away to be replaced by tension and worry. After a bit of rambling about fear of rejection, she made the former demon promise not to share her story with anyone, not even Xander, unless Buffy gave her permission. Instead of instantly agreeing, the brunet asked if it would hurt her boyfriend to not know. Buffy shook her head. Knowing her situation truly was only the business of those she most trusted and she could not imagine being excluded as harmful to anyone. Granted, the Slayer was only considering physical harm and not the emotional kind that her friends would feel but she truly saw no harm in keeping quiet. In her mind, it was actually more prudent to keep her future past insulated. She only wanted to share with Anya because it had been so long since she had a confidant. She missed it and hoped the former demon would understand her and the situation.

Her rediscovered friend considered her answer then nodded her head. She was honored to be the Slayer's confidant.

Once Anya promised her silence, Buffy took a deep breath to steady her nerves. She then admitted that she wasn't quite the Buffy they all knew a few weeks ago.

Anya rolled her eyes and informed the Slayer that she wasn't a fool. She knew that she had changed. The other woman realized that the pre-enjoining spell Buffy would never have opted for a girls night at the Summer's house with movies, snacks and a former demon. That was the sort of thing she had shared with Willow not with Anya or Tara.

"All those years that the Slayer essence existed made you feel older when you mingled, right? I was betting you got a lot of memories and sensations along with the encounter. Changed your perspective a bit."

Buffy absently ran her pointer finger along the bottom hem of her pajama pants. She finally lifted her head and met Anya's gaze.

"Um, not exactly. I mean, yes, there have been a lot of memories and stuff in what is making me different, but it wasn't the first Slayer doing the influencing. It was me. Well, the whole that is the me to come."

Confusion caused a furrow to appear across Anya's forehead and she wiggled her compressed lips. She admitted that she didn't understand.

With a voice heavy laden with the unending sorrow of death and destruction she had endured, Buffy shared the truth of her origins. She provided some of the highlights that she remembered of her previous future life. Her friend listened raptly as Buffy plowed through tears and shaking and even a minor panic attack as she related the unending monotony and pain of her immortal existence. When she finally fell silent, Buffy waited in fear for Anya to react to the unbelievable tale.

Anya shook away her glazed look of shock.

"Oh, Buffy. True immortality? What a horrible curse! And in all that time, you were unable to find a way to break it?"

Buffy shook her head.

"I actually don't think it was a curse. Maybe more like a side effect of some other event."

"You don't remember how it happened?"

Sheepishly, the Slayer admitted that she didn't recall the details. Although she suspected it was somehow related to the effect on the Immortal, she conceded that she didn't actually remember much from before the fall of humanity. There were bits and pieces remaining but not a cohesive time line in her mind.

"So you don't actually remember being Buffy?"

Sheepishly, Buffy smiled.

"Not exactly. I have been using the stuff in my bedroom and watching folks to get an idea of who I am right now."

"For what it is worth," Anya complimented "you are doing an outstanding job of being yourself."

With a chuckle, Buffy thanked her friend.

A horrified expression suddenly crossed Anya's face. She reached out and wrapped her arms around the blond.

"Oh! Poor Buffy! Humanity has been gone for thousands of years in your memories. No wonder you haven't found an orgasm friend. You've obviously forgotten how wonderful they are to have."

"Not really," Buffy admitted with a tiny shake of her head before she pulled out of the embrace. "About three centuries ago, I had a brachen-feldoran hybrid for a lover. We were together for almost fifty years before he died during an earthquake."

"Feldoran?"

"Alien race. Look a bit like a way underdeveloped fyarl demon but without the destructive tendencies. Big hearts, little bodies."

"Thee centuries... long time to go without a relationship," Anya concluded with obvious sympathy.

Buffy shrugged. It had reached the point where the pain of losing a lover coupled with the difficulty in finding someone the Eternal One could find attractive while both anatomically and emotionally compatible had been far greater a task than any pleasure she could enjoy. At that juncture, she had just withdrawn farther into herself. The sex just hadn't been worth it.

Nervously, the Eternal One asked her friend if she would still accept her despite her secret. As if there could be no other answer, Anya assured Buffy that she would support her any way that she needed.

"You're my friend," the former demon stated as if that made any other explanation irrelevant. After a thousand years of wish granting, Anya preferred to believe in absolutes. That meant if Buffy was her friend, then she would be her friend for as long as she wanted her. It also meant that the former demon would gladly accept her friends quirks and protect her secrets. She hoped that Buffy would feel the same way about her.

Relieved, a few final tears trailed down Buffy's cheeks. She swiped them away and physically shook her body as if to knock loose the lingering horrors that haunted her mind. The Slayer forced the tension from her body and a calm expression settled on her face. Appearances were a kind of hard shell that she could use to protect herself. It was a lesson the Eternal One had perfected which had its actual roots in her current life even if she didn't remember it. The Slayer reached for the popcorn. After her emotional outburst, her stomach wasn't feeling great but she was hoping to at least appear like she was back in control. Buffy hoped to move back to their earlier, carefree evening. She flicked on the movie in the VCR with the remote control and settled back against the sofa to at least pretend to watch the romantic comedy Anya had chosen.

"So when do we see the guy who looks kinda like Spike?" Buffy inquired after watching for half an hour and not seeing one of the anticipated points Anya promised.

Anya grabbed a handful of popcorn and shoved it in her mouth after promising that he appeared near the end of the film.

When Buffy seemed happy to hear she hadn't been tricked about the look-a-like, the former demon hummed slightly. She leaned over and bumped her shoulder against the Slayer.

"You know, Spike's been around for over a hundred years. Although he can't come close to my or your experience levels, I still bet he could give you extraordinary orgasms."

Buffy reached into their shared bowl and popped a single piece of buttered snack into her mouth. A hint of a wicked grin touched on her lips. She had already decided that she found the vampire intriguing as well as attractive. It was nice to hear someone else see him in a more positive manner though since all she had heard over the past week from all her other supposed friends were negatives. She couldn't imagine why the chipped vampire deserved such high levels of animosity. As far as she could tell, he had never killed any of their close friends or family.

"Something to consider," the Eternal One admitted evenly before snagging another piece of popcorn.

"Oh, now I know you aren't the old Buffy," Anya teased happily. "She wouldn't have known a good time if it bit her in the butt."

"Oh!" She added. "Maybe you could get lucky and Spike could bite you on the butt."

A sharp bark of laughter erupted from Buffy which turned to a cough as her popcorn stuck part way down her throat. She grabbed for a bottle of water and gulped its contents. Safe once more from any choking hazard, the Eternal One tilted her head slightly and her thoughtful expression once more settled on her face. As she stared blankly towards the television set, she gave free reign to the thoughts of Spike and biting and orgasms. Her wicked grin returned. In her mind, the idea definitely held merit.


	7. Chapter 7

"You have many lovely paintings and sculptures, Mrs. Summers," Anya gushed as she strolled through the art gallery with Buffy's mother. The former demon had arrived unexpectedly at the shop in hopes of inviting Buffy to dinner. She knew that the Slayer would be opening and moving new shipment arrivals today. Xander wanted to celebrate his newest job as a carpenter's helper and Anya had an ulterior motive in showing up here to issue the invitation. She possessed the information that Buffy was most likely not the only supernatural being helping with the heavy lifting. That fact was instrumental in her newest brilliant plan.

"The eclectic nature of your merchandise must increase your profit potential by attracting a variety of art enthusiasts."

"Uh, yes... I guess it does," replied Joyce with an amused smile. Although she only recently met Xander's girlfriend, the gallery owner found her amusing. Like her daughter, she appreciated Anya's strange mix of innocence and knowledge that was so obviously a part of her endearing personality. As the bell chimed to announce a new potential customer, Joyce waved her daughter's friend towards the back of the store and gave directions for finding her newest summer helpers.

Anya all but skipped around the cashier station and down the short hallway to the gallery's over-sized storage room. Instead of greeting Buffy, Anya stood unobserved for a moment in the doorway and watched the two supernatural beings at work. A knowing smirk crossed her lips as she noticed the way the Slayer and their resident fang-less vampire kept stealing glances at each other when the other was occupied with opening crates or sorting heavy sculpture pieces. It was a subtle dance that Anya expected no one else had yet noticed. She doubted they were even aware of the careful steps the other person was making.

The former demon quickly keyed on the fact that Buffy's expression held a certain appreciation in it. She also noticed that Spike seemed a bit more confused by the Slayer. Anya would have bet that there was an underlying foundation of attraction on his part but mostly he seemed more wary than anything else. She could appreciate his concern. Buffy wasn't the same as before the enjoining spell. That change had to be causing the vampire all sorts of fits. She hoped that Spike didn't allow the changes to get in the way of developing feelings. In her opinion, he couldn't do better than building a real relationship with the time displaced Slayer. She also believed that Buffy would benefit from having another individual to trust with her strange truth.

Wooden boards clattered followed by the ping of a crowbar hitting the floor.

"EWW!" Buffy proclaimed as she drew back from the newly opened box. She covered her nose and mouth with her hand as she moved backwards.

"What's... whoa..." Spike reacted as he too caught a whiff of the decaying stench from inside the box. The vampire moved to the box filled with decayed and moldy strands instead of the fresh packing material in which the the rest of the art crates were properly shipped.

"That's a bit weird," he mentioned as he pulled free one of the metal sculptures from the box. The piece was badly tarnished, pitted with age and partially rusted. The second sculpture appeared in the same condition. Bits of properly stored packing material ringed the rotted stuff and one section of the second sculpture appeared unaffected by whatever damaged the other item.

Unsure of what to do with the affected pieces, Buffy shoved the crate towards the edge of the room and promised to have her mom check it later. She returned the wooden lid to help contain the odor. When she turned back towards the room, she noticed Anya standing by the doorway. The Slayer rushed towards her friend to share a hug and warm greeting.

Anya hugged Buffy with just as much enthusiasm.

"You birds should get a room," Spike groused as he returned the dropped crowbar to its proper place on the workbench. Even though Buffy had dropped it, he made the effort to cover her oversight. The vamp didn't even realize he had done it and would have denied he was being helpful it anyone else had noticed.

Pulling back from the friendly embrace, Anya honestly replied "We do not require a room. Although Buffy is quite attractive and most likely well versed in providing orgasms, her lack of a penis limits my interest in her."

Buffy chortled at the bold statement. When she noticed the shocked expression on Spike's face, she giggled again.

Realizing she was now laughing at him, Spike reacted with grumpy annoyance. He had no tolerance for being the butt of any jokes. William had suffered that indignation too often in the past. Spike refused to accept similar treatment meekly.

"You know, Spike. Buffy's lack of a penis could be advantageous to you," Anya suggested. She decided to forget subtle and just hit them both with the obvious solution of their hooking up for mutual gratification.

Spike waited for the Slayer to overreact to the suggestion. In the past, any innuendo on his part always resulted in rude comments and often a pop in the nose. Instead of the expected snark or mild violence, Buffy surprised him by laughing. She slipped her arm around Anya's elbow.

"Are you trying to pimp me out to the first available hottie?" Buffy teased her friend.

Although he didn't need to breath, Spike found himself choking in shock. Not only was the Slayer not angered by having Anya suggest she engage with his privates, but she also thought he was hot. Nervous energy set his body to fidgeting as his mind seemed to swirl on repeat with the concept of Buffy getting up close and personal with his penis. It was not a fantasy he would have pursued as even remotely possible without the interference of external magics.

"You said it yourself. He is hot and it is so wrong to waste a hottie," Anya concluded. She trailed her eyes appreciatively over the aforementioned vampire. She might be happily involved with Xander but that didn't mean she couldn't appreciate the aesthetic value of more than just Joyce's art in the gallery.

With a hint of an evil grin, Buffy turned to Spike.

"So what do you say, Mr. Hot and Fangy? Wanna take me for a spin?"

Anya giggled.

"I think you broke Spike," she chortled while both girls giggled over the vampire's utterly flabbergasted expression.

"I... that is... URG!" shouted Spike as he whipped around in agitation. "You don't just tease a guy about taking a ride on his particulars. And uptight, black is black and white is white Slayers certainly don't proposition vampires of the souless varieties. Especially not for meaningless sex."

Spike practically foamed at the mouth he was so distressed over this bizarre shift in reality. The weeks of tentative companionship they had shared were forgotten as he remembered instead all the years of animosity that they shared.

"So Slayer's don't do casual sex?" Buffy confirmed with a questioning raise of her eyebrow.

"You don't do casual sex," Spike snipped in return.

"Okay. If you say so," Buffy agreed with a shrug. "So ask me out for coffee."

Spike froze.

"Coffee?" he choked.

"Ice cream works too," Anya helpfully offered.

"Ice cream?"

Anya nudged Buffy with her elbow.

"I really think you did break him," she commented as the vampire continued to repeat ice cream and coffee like they were his only functioning vocabulary.

Although visibly disappointed, Buffy shrugged like it wasn't important. Even before becoming the Eternal One, the Slayer had perfected the art of hiding her true emotional state. She slipped easily into the act.

"Guess he isn't really interested," she stated evenly as she worked to keep the pinched tone from her voice. She shifted her attention to Anya and inquired after the reason for her visit.

Frowning, Anya considered keeping the conversation going. After noticing the ever so slightly stiff manner in which Buffy stood, she decided to save her friend the immediate frustration. She shook her head. It was disappointing that the direct approach didn't work; she would now need to try a more circuitous route. She set aside her romantic hopes for her friend and focused on her original reason for the visit.

* * *

"Hey, Sweetie. What ya doing?" Tara asked as she slid into the library seat beside Willow. The red head was the only one at the long wooden table on the deserted third floor of the campus library. Although they were both taking a couple extra credits so that they could remain living in the dormitory over the normal summer break, her girlfriend was not studying either physics or computer graphics. She had a collection of spell books from Mr. Giles' personal library spread across the work space. Colored pens and note cards were also scattered around the study space.

"Just some research," she replied while shutting the large spell book and then closing her spiral notebook full of notations. A number of colored tabs attached to the ends of pages proved that Willow had been working on her current project for quite a while.

Although Tara found her suspicious behavior more than a bit odd, she didn't have the confidence to mention the subterfuge to her girlfriend. Willow nervously shifted the books until they were stacked neatly. Searching for a way to cover the slightly uncomfortable silence, Tara inquired about a possible trip to the beach for some fun in the sun. Willow happily latched onto the idea and jumped into plans for the entire gang to get together. The redhead's enthusiasm quickly snared Tara and eased her spell related concerns.

"Do you think we should try to contact Riley and invite him too?" Willow speculated as she packed all her books into a large tote bag.

Tara shook her head. She didn't think throwing Riley and Buffy together would be healthy for either of them. She never felt particularly comfortable around Buffy's previous boyfriend but she hadn't wanted to say anything mean about him. He was intimidating for the naturally timid witch and she was secretly happy when Anya had described the scene at the pizza parlor. She agreed that the former Initiative commando was a bully and was secretly tickled that Buffy and Anya called him on his behaviors.

Unaware of her girlfriend's feelings about Riley, Willow hummed.

"Okay. Maybe Riley wasn't the right guy for her. There is a really cute guy in my physics class though. He's tall, dark haired and had really nice blue eyes. Bet Buffy would like him."

"Um, wouldn't it be better to allow Buffy to invite someone for herself?" Tara hesitantly offered. She ducked her head to avoid making eye contact over the issue. She didn't want to see the anticipated censure in Willow's eyes at her disagreement with the red head's idea. These kind of confrontations always made her tummy feel queasy but Tara still felt the need to voice her concern. She liked Buffy and wanted her to feel comfortable.

"But Buffy won't invite anyone. She's in the whole post relationship avoidance thing. She always does this. After she sent Angel to hell, she was gone for months and then I still had to coax her into going out with Scott Hope when she returned. Same thing with Riley after the whole Poopyhead Parker incident."

With her thoughts on Buffy and her lacking love life, Willow frowned as she shifted the heavy tote bag straps over her shoulder. She grimaced slightly at the heavy weight but focused on her explanation.

"I always have to encourage her to start seeing someone. Riley, Scott, Parker, even Angel. Buffy just doesn't go after the guy unless someone prods her a bit."

Now Tara frowned.

"So maybe Buffy isn't in the right place for a relationship if you have to push her into them?"

Willow waved away the idea. The pair headed towards the stairwell. Their voices remained hushed as they pushed through the heavy double doors and trooped down the steps. Throughout the trip, Willow never lost track of her concerns with Buffy's lack of courage in her love life.

"Of course not. She totally wants to be the center of some guy's world. She just needs a little nudge here and there. Buffy was all about Angel once she got started. He was THE ONE. You know? She was so in love with him. She just needed a push."

"I don't think..."

"No, it's perfect" Willow interrupted. "We don't want Buffy feeling all third wheelie at the beach. She would be feeling it if it's Xander and Anya and you and me making with the obvious couple-age."

Willow smiled warmly at her lover and gently touched her arm. She was so happily enjoying her relationship with Tara that she couldn't help but want Buffy to have the same wonderful experience. Even if Riley wasn't the right guy for her, there had to be someone else out there who would enjoy dating the pretty and perky teen.

"Don't you think everyone will be uncomfortable with a new person unexpectedly joining the get together?" Tara countered. She was running out of protest options for the fix up if she didn't want to cause a scene.

Willow considered Tara's newest concern but came up with a simple solution for it. She would invite three new people. There were two girls living in a dorm room down the hallway who seemed pretty nice. It was perfect. The teen had overheard them whining about not having a chance to visit the beach in weeks. She could invite them this evening. She figured if they would join the party then it wouldn't seem so much like a set up between Buffy and her physic's friend Jerry.

Despite her concerns about pressing Buffy towards another guy, Tara finally agreed with Willow's ideas. She figured her girlfriend knew the Slayer better than she did. She shrugged then smiled encouragingly. If all else failed, Tara figured Buffy could handle a little unwanted match making. The Slayer seemed so much more mature lately. Her new found attitude surely included the confidence to state her feelings or lack of them for a new potential boyfriend.

* * *

The Slayer stalked along the deserted roadway in front of the Bronze. The silence from the building attested to the lateness of the hour. The normally busy club was closed tight for the night.

Buffy's hands clenched and released in repeating fists as she grumbled to herself about manipulative supposed friends. She was livid and had been consumed with the emotional response for hours. Her current extended hunt had done nothing to relieve her staggering frustration. Despite over two hours of searching for something action wise, she had encountered only a fledgeling vamp that had literally thrown himself onto her stake and two terrified yet harmless demons. She had simply waved in what she hoped was a friendly manner to the two wrinkled demons. Terrified, they had scurried away without returning the gesture. There was no relief for the Eternal One's frustrations to be found along those lines. She saw no reason to hunt down demons whose worst crime was loitering in a public place.

Buffy grumbled to herself about the uselessness of not only her patrol but her entire day. Although originally excited at being invited for a beach party, Buffy hadn't enjoyed herself. While others played Frisbee, she had spent a while coaxing the grill to light. Xander seemed to resent her interest in the cooking. She suspected it offended his male ego that she was able to light the damp charcoal bricks while he had only gotten wispy smoke. Once the coals were glowing and graying properly, the Slayer had relinquished the grill back to her friend. Xander had then proceeded to burn the hot dogs and under-cook the hamburgers. It might have soothed his manly image to manage the grill but it made the food less than pleasant.

In addition, Willow had invited two girls to the get together that Buffy did not know. The Slayer had been uncomfortable when she first saw them by the others because she wasn't sure if she should have known them. Luckily, Willow had made a big deal of introducing the pair of giggling airheads so Buffy had determined that she didn't need to act like she recognized them. The unexpected guests never noticed her reaction. They had spent most of the afternoon whining about having to take summer classes for ones they failed the previous year and making veiled comments about Xander and Anya not attending these same classes they hadn't passed. Buffy had itched to tear into them but resisted the urge in hopes of keeping some semblance of peace. In retrospect, she wished she hadn't exerted such control. They were snobs who deserved to be put in their places.

With the introduction of the bubbly invaders came the third and most annoying point of the afternoon. Willow had decided to invite a rather awkward physics major as a poorly disguised attempt at a blind date for Buffy. Although the young man was physically pleasing to the eyes, Jerry had lacked even a remote spark of anything to attract her. He had seemed so very young. It had taken her way too long just to convince him to talk about himself and he had barely shared anything beyond his major and hometown once he did finally speak. He struck her as the hang back and watch type.

Buffy absently twirled the stake in her hand as she mentally shuddered at the waste of time. She was too old to be coaxing someone into living. The Slayer possessed no patience for a brooding recluse. Because she spent so long just existing in a circle of violence and loneliness, the displaced Eternal One wanted to spend her newly acquired time enjoying her moments instead of worrying that someone else was feeling included. Buffy was desperate to feel alive and the pretty human boy was not what she needed.

Buffy shook her head angrily. She didn't understand why Willow kept professing in a hurt and accusatory manner that she was such a good friend. Despite her claim, she didn't seem to realize how removed the Slayer was from the perceived image in the red head's mind. Fleetingly, Buffy wondered if Willow had actually deeply understood her earlier self before the Slayer's future self overwrote her present being. For some reason, she doubted it. She suspected that even at this point, her past self had been quite adapt at hiding her responses and feelings. From what she observed, Willow didn't seem like the type to actually look under the surface of her own desires. She certainly didn't seem to respect Buffy's current approach to her own life.

Fleetingly, the Eternal One wondered if she was judging Willow too harshly. She suspected that whatever instinctual response made her fearful of trusting the red head and her magic might be influencing her tolerance of her previous best friend's manipulations. Being honest with herself, she admitted that she would probably more readily accept Anya or Xander attempting to secure her a blind date. She smirked slightly as she remembered Anya's attempt at getting Spike to ask her out for ice cream. She was disappointed it hadn't worked.

Buffy sighed and relaxed the muscles in her neck and shoulders. She attempted to release the disgust over the disappointing gathering. While rolling her head to further loosen her tension, the Slayer noticed hints of discordant sounds echoing down the street and around the corner. With an ease born of repeated altercations, the Slayer stifled her anger and focused on the potential danger. Ripples of demonic energy teased along her skin. On silent feet, Buffy hastened down the dimly lit walkway. Turning the corner, she immediately assessed the situation. Tension released and battle lust rescinded. With a surge of pleasure, the Slayer silently leaned against the brick building and enjoyed the unexpected show.

Halfway down the alley in the spotlight from one of the few working streetlights, Spike whirled to avoid the clumsy swipe of claws from a hulking opponent. The vampire pivoted on his back foot and swung a forceful spinning back kick. With his head snapping back so his eyes could focus on this second opponent, he perfectly targeted the strike. The second demon, which after a moment of thought Buffy had identified as a Tirtulk from its claws, tusks and bear-like body, took the blow directly below it's rib cage. The monster grunted and collapsed slightly. When his head lowered as he unconsciously curled around the injury, Spike spun once more and caught the demon in the head with a spinning crescent kick. Stunned but not dead, the Tirtulk fell.

As his second opponent hit the ground, the vampire twisted to avoid a blow to the head from the original attacker. The swipe missed his face but caught his shoulder. He danced backwards. The maneuver lessened the impact but he still hissed at the power behind the strike. Tirtulks might be slow and stupid but they were ridiculously strong. He would have quite a bruise in a few hours if he survived this confrontation. The vampire cursed loudly at the demon. His words ended in a snapping snarl.

Bouncing on the balls of his feet, Spike positioned himself so that his back was to the brick wall. The Tirtulk took a moment to scent the air. This specific type of demon possessed poor eyesight for anything beside motion but their ability to scent prey rivaled sharks in their intensity. Her nostrils flared and she followed the scent of leather and old blood until she could focus on the movements of her dangerous opponent.

By the time the over-sized demon found the enemy again, Spike had snagged a broken board from a shattered pallet along the trash at the edge of the building. His opponent took a single step towards him and the vampire drove the jagged piece of wood into her throat. The monster gurgled, clutched at the impromptu weapon, then died. As the corpse fell, the second demon roared in anger. He charged the vampire and attempted to tackle him to the ground.

Buffy took a step forward. Having noted that the remaining demon possessed curling horns as well as tusks, she figured they were a domestic pair. The Tirtulks most likely arrived at the Hellmouth to procreate. The energy from the demonic portal increased fertility and fetal strength of a number of demons. Given her belief, the Slayer expected the remaining male would be overcome with blood rage with the loss of his mate and possible offspring.

Her hand strayed towards the scabbard looped over her shoulder as she prepared to draw her sword. It was the first in a series of weapons that Buffy intended to secure for use during hunts and apocalypses. Although an ax, a pike or a laser lash would have been preferable, the sword was far superior to a stake for combating hulking demons.

Ultimately, Buffy didn't need to bother with the weapon as Spike avoided the lumbering charge. Relying on his speed, the vampire side stepped the tackle. The Tirtulk's momentum slammed his head into the brick wall. The blow momentarily stunned the demon and Spike took advantage of the reprieve. Spinning, he launched himself onto the back of the demon. His hands reached over hunched shoulders to latch onto the curled horns. With a knee against the Tirtulk's back to add to his leverage, Spike jerked the stunned monster's horns back in a bid to rip his head from his furred body. The crack of snapping bone bounced off the bricks although the muscular body of the demon prevented the vampire from actually separating the head from the neck.

Spike pushed off the dead monster's back and landed solidly on his feet. He laughed harshly while checking an earlier injury to his right forearm. Post fight euphoria coursed through him like the best of addictive drugs. The Tirtulks had been powerful enough foes as a pair that the fight's outcome hadn't been an absolutely foregone conclusion. Fighting with the shadow, however small, of possible death haunting his steps always made the battle more exhilarating for the vamp.

The Slayer clapped as the final opponent fell to the ground and shimmered into slowly dissipating goo.

"Nice work, love," Buffy called as she stepped out of the shadows. The words seemed to roll naturally off her tongue even without remembering why they seemed so fitting.

Startled by his previously unnoticed audience, Spike spun. His leather duster flared around his movement dramatically. His game face flowed into his human guise as he met the Slayer's gaze. Buffy froze as a strange shiver of recognition flowed over her. The memory shimmered like a desert mirage in her mind. It remained elusive from her mental grasp and dribbled like sand through her fingers.

Frowning slightly, Spike tilted his head a bit to the left.

"Who are you?" the vamp demanded with a hint of an amused smirk leaking across his face.

Buffy remained silent as her nose twitched and her forehead wrinkled as she mentally scrambled for the long forgotten memory. Even with the actual memory lost in the trenches of her mind, the feeling the frightened teen experienced in the moment she met Spike still remained. A flash of fear rippled from her chest to her limbs. She unconsciously took a step backwards.

"Slayer?" Spike questioned nervously as the amusement fled his expression. He saw the goosebumps forming on Buffy's bare arms and practically tasted her sudden fear on his tongue. It was not the response he expected. He had strangely looked forward to a possible teasing exchange to mirror their first meeting. Their relationship of late had improved enough that he found himself amused by Buffy's quirky humor instead of offended. Of course, her tongue had lacked the sharp cuts he had come to expect from her. That shift had slowly improved his attitude too. Any snark between the two of them the last few weeks hinted at being friendly instead of antagonistic.

"Slayer?" Spike repeated as he took a step forward.

Buffy never answered. Instead she stared at her hand which was curled loosely in a fist and raised slightly towards him. When she had latched onto the fleeting memory of their first meeting in this same alley, her mind had slipped into a more deeply rooted and far more powerful one. In her long hidden pathways of a forgotten lifetime, light flared around the pair as their hands flamed where they clasped desperately at each other as the world around them ended. She whispered his name as tears rushed unchecked down her cheeks.

Spike stepped within reach of Buffy. He hesitated for a moment before reaching for her raised hand. As his fingers brushed her skin, she screamed.

"NO YOU DON'T!"

The outburst startled Spike. He jumped slightly and he then retreated a step to be out of reach of the clearly traumatized Slayer. There was no way he wished to be within reach if the distressed warrior suddenly became violent. Her lack of predictability recently served only to increase his unease. Spike did not want to end up dust at the end of an unexpected stake from an out of control opponent. He didn't want to face off with Buffy until he lost the cursed chip that kept his aggression in check. Then, he might consider it but he couldn't properly defend himself from her at this point.

The Slayer remained unaware of her previous enemy's response to her condition. Unlike even hints of the few memories Buffy had recently experienced and fervently chased, the Slayer fled from this powerful one. Because the Eternal One lost most of her affect reactions through the passage of time, she was unprepared for the strength of this specific memory. In desperation, she metaphorically shoved at the haunting image and crushing emotional onslaught that threatened to overwhelm her.

"NO!" she shouted before falling into anguished repeating of the same denial. She wrapped her arms around her middle and shrunk into herself. Although she had succeeded in fleeing from the full memory, the anguish remained. It encircled her entire body and choked all other thoughts and emotions under its intense influence.

Spike found himself only able to listen to the haunting no's for so long before he once more reached for Buffy. He gently rested his hands on her upper arms. When the Slayer did not strike him, he called softly to her.

"Buffy?"

When she failed to respond in anything but sobs, the vampire shifted his left hand to her chin. He nudged it in order to lift her head so they could see each other clearly. Something in his chest tightened as Spike noticed the utterly devastated expression stamped clearly on her face. The whites of her eyes were already rimmed red and framed with lashes clumped in spikes from her heavy tears. He gasped at the raw despair and hopelessness clearly written in her wavering gaze. He whispered her name once more as he shifted his hand slightly to cup her cheek.

Although he hadn't expected the sudden and intense desire to comfort Buffy, Spike didn't fight the feeling. He would worry about the meaning later in the quiet of his crypt. For now, he offered what he could to ease her pain.

"Buffy... Slayer... What is happening in that pretty little head of yours?"

As if she was trudging through waist deep snow, Buffy fought the crushing blackness until she surfaced once more. Her eyes focused on the vampire before her.

"Spike?" she whispered in a hesitant and cracking voice that sounded more like a lost child than the powerful woman she normally was.

Spike only had a chance to nod before Buffy threw herself against his chest. He grunted at the force as her arms wrapped around his middle and she buried her head against his neck. The vampire was lucky he didn't need to breath as the Slayer practically crawled inside his duster with him. Her fingers dug into his back leaving a new set of bruises and she squeezed his chest so tightly that a human's ribs would have cracked. Utterly confused, Spike allowed the sobbing and shaking girl to cling like ivy on his body. Awkwardly, he patted her back and murmured disjointed bits of comfort.

Spike honestly admitted to himself that he wasn't built for this kind of situation but he would do the best he could. After all, adapting was one of his better skills. He rolled through major life changes: family deaths, his own death, emerging as a vampire, losing his vampire family, losing Dru, getting a chip, and even becoming friends with a Slayer. William grew and changed to fit the need. Recapturing his resolve, Spike's shoulders loosened slightly as he found a more comfortable position to offer Buffy a bit of solace. He spent a century helping Dru deal with her fits; he promised himself that he could help with this one too.

After scouring his mind for ways of helping, he silently reminded himself that the still warm heart of an innocent would not be a proper distraction even if the chip didn't prevent him from securing one. He grinned as he realized he really didn't need one. The Slayer seemed to be calming with just the physical comfort his presence afforded. It was a pleasant surprise. He was used to a more active means of dealing with Drusilla's issues. His arms tightened the shared hug. He turned his head just a hint and pressed a feather light kiss against the golden hair on the side of her head.

When Buffy's sobs finally subsided into tiny hiccuping breaths and occasional sniffles against his collar, Spike drew back from the embrace. He offered what he believed was an encouraging smile to the Slayer still nestled against his chest. She lifted her head and met his eyes. His head tilted as an unexpected apprehension grew in the pit of his stomach.

"Who are you?" he questioned softly as he raised a hand to cup the side of her tear stained cheek. This time, it was not an attempt at a teasing joke. In Spike's mind, there was no way Buffy Summers eyes could possibly hold the level of torment and despair that clouded this woman's eyes. Even after a couple years of active duty as the Slayer, a number of failed relationships, and even sending her first love to Hell, there was no way the eyes meeting his were the eyes of the sassy college student who heckled him through the past year. Instead, they reminded him of the eyes of some of Angelus' longer termed victims after they had finally given up begging the sadistic bastard for death.

"I'm the Slayer," Buffy answered evenly with the same tone she had utilized the first time he posed a similar question right after the battle with the Initiative.

Spike shook his head ever so slightly.

"But not my Slayer."

Of this, he was quite sure now.

Buffy stiffened as she read rejection in his statement instead of confusion. She shoved away from his chest as a sharp stab of pain flinched along the edges of her eyes only to be gone as quickly as it occurred.

"Right. Not _your_ Slayer. You've made that quite clear," she snapped sharply as she stepped away from the vampire. The further she moved, the more stiffly she held herself until none of the vulnerability or want remained. Once more, a blankness of expression and physical response settled over her body. Even her heart beat and respiration rate dropped into a startling calm that belied her recent distress. The utter absence of any reaction floored Spike and he immediately and irrationally wished to have back the sniffling and sobbing female.

"Bloody Hell, Woman. You are easily the most aggravating chit ever," he raged more in response to his churning emotional state than in reaction to the Slayer's actions or words. With his attention lost in his snit, Spike missed Buffy's eyes narrow in subtle warning of impending doom. He continued to rant at the Eternal One until her ears rang. He laid everything from his chipped status to Drusilla leaving him to his hatred of pigs blood at her feet. The volume of his rant increased as his rage expanded exponentially.

"Enough," Buffy ordered in a voice so quiet it could barely be heard under Spike's fussing.

The single word silenced him more effectively than any of her past harsh words or violence to his overly targeted nose ever did.

"I am sorry for whatever slights I have caused you in the past. I apologize for the hardships I have seemingly inflicted on your existence. It is not my intention to drive you barmy. I did not wish to burden you with my momentary weakness. I shall endeavor to keep such displays as well as any unwanted flirtations to myself in the future."

Having issued her desired statement, the Eternal One turned. Without a hint of her own churning emotional state, Buffy calmly strolled into the darkness. She paused when halfway down the alleyway. She might not be willing to endanger herself emotionally but she didn't wish Spike to suffer because of her decision to cut her losses and retreat.

"You need to work on some fighting patterns that do not always rely on being the smaller yet faster predator in a fight," she offered evenly over her shoulder as if he had not been screaming at her moments ago. She openly shared her concern about the most glaring weakness she had noticed in his fighting style. "Your speed coupled with your strength and skills are incredible assets but you need to remember, there are beings stronger, faster yet still smaller than you. There are style changes you could make to decrease that weakness."

Spike howled in frustration but Buffy did not respond further. She continued walking into the darkness.

Reaching his breaking point, Spike tore down the alley after Buffy. Risking a migraine, he grabbed the Slayer on her shoulder and whipped her around to face him.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?!" he demanded as he searched her blank expression for any kind of answer to his confusion. She made him feel like a blasted yo-yo with her mercurial shifts in mood. He started to suspect that the Slayer might be more insane than Drusilla ever approached. He feared she was going to drag him right along into mental oblivion.

The Eternal One simply stared at him for a moment. She met his gaze evenly and without a trace of the hatred or grudging tolerance he was so used to seeing reflected there.

"Coffee," she simply replied. "Coffee... or ice cream."

Buffy shrugged as if the what that she wanted wasn't important.

Spike closed his eyes and he took a deep breath. With his eyes open once more, he leaned close to the Eternal One until their noses were practically touching and he could feel her breath in little puffs against his lips.

"Buffy Summers would never ask a souless vampire on a date," he murmured as he rested his forehead against hers. He fought the nagging urge to move the few centimeters needed to press a kiss against her lips. The desire pricked all the harder at his self control since he firmly believed the Slayer would not fight against the advance. He mentally shook his head as he decided she had already driven him insane.

Buffy retreated a single step. She easily slipped from Spike's grip on her shoulders. The tired, world weary expression returned slightly to her eyes.

"As a child, Buffy may have been led to believe as you say. I am not a child any longer," the Eternal One stated as her chin raised defiantly. "Yes, it is true that you are a vampire. You have no soul. Who cares? I don't see you actively following the base call of Evil. You are strong and passionate and perceptive. You're attractive and attentive. Above all, you are alive."

Buffy smiled slightly at the scoffing noise Spike made when she mentioned he was alive.

"I don't mean alive, dead or even undead. I mean you embrace life. Your intensity for life calls me like Hellspawn to the Flaming Pit. I want to bathe in that life. Wrap it around myself and revel in the warmth. That is what adult Buffy believes. It's what I want."

Transfixed by the words offered, Spike searched Buffy's face for any hint of malice or disrespect in her intentions. He found none. Silently cursing himself as a fool, he conceded the battle. He would jump off the cliff with the Slayer even if it meant he was joining her in Bedlam.

"Coffee," he stated more than questioned.

Buffy smiled softly.

"I prefer ice cream."

Spike snorted.

"Fine. Joyce pays us on Friday. Ice cream. Eight o'clock. Can pick you up at your mom's place."

Her smile shifted from a smile to a full grin.

"See... that wasn't so hard, now was it?" she teased as she turned to resume her interrupted patrol.

Spike rubbed his hand over his face before raking his fingers through the side of his hair. The gel failed and he was left with tangled disarray on the one side. It matched his scattered emotional state perfectly.

"You have no idea, Slayer," he grumbled as he unconsciously fell into step beside her.


	8. Chapter 8

"That does not look like a patrolling outfit," Joyce commented to her daughter who just bounced down the steps with Billy the Gilly clinging to her shoulder.

Buffy giggled. It was a joyful tinkle that tickled her mother's heart. The Slayer carefully placed her little demon pet on the back of the couch and watched as the gilly scampered along the top of the cushions until it could jump into Joyce's lap. Billy pushed his scaled head under her hand and started to purr. Absently, Joyce set to petting the foreign yet endearing creature. Any apprehension the woman had harbored about housing a pet demon had dissipated a while ago. Billy Gilly was the best pet she had ever owned. He was cleaner and less work than most dogs and more affectionate than most cats.

"It's not a patrolling outfit," Buffy replied with a smirk and a wiggle of her eyebrows. Her daughter performed a childish pirouette with her hands in the air. The flirty white skirt flitted and flared over her tanned thighs and her loosely curled hair bounced playfully.

"I have a date," admitted Buffy in a way that made her mother feel like she was party to a very special secret.

Joyce couldn't help but smile because her daughter sounded very excited about her plans for the evening. She didn't remember that last time Buffy had seemed so innocently tickled about anything. It might have been the first year they moved to Sunnydale and her father picked her up for their first weekend together. Buffy had returned all gushing and bubbling like the little daddy's girl she remembered her being before the shadows of a failed marriage and secrets from slaying came into the Summers household. It saddened Joyce to think that she had to go back years to remember seeing her daughter enjoying herself so fully.

A hint of unease leaked into Buffy's expression as she ran her palms over the silky blue halter top that reminded the Eternal One of her upcoming date's eyes.

"This outfit's okay, right?" she asked nervously. She fidgeted as she contemplated her flimsy white sandals with just a hint of a heel. They were silly bits of footwear made mostly of thin straps. Buffy thought they were cute but they were far from practical. She worried her pink glossed lips as she considered replacing the shoes that showcased her pretty blue toenails for a more serviceable pair of white Keds.

"You look adorable," Joyce assured her child.

"Thanks, mom," Buffy responded as the butterflies in her tummy subsided momentarily. Skipping across the room, she offered her mom a gentle hug and Billy a scratch under his chin.

"Where are you going, Sweetie?" Joyce asked as she placed Billy on the floor. The displaced demon pouted for a moment before scurrying to the corner to hide in the elaborate cat stand Buffy had purchased with her first gallery paycheck.

"Ice cream," Buffy answered absently as she turned towards the door in response to the tingles that prickled along her spine and announced Spike's imminent arrival. She ran her hands over her outfit one more time as she took a steadying breath. She exhaled loudly as the doorbell rang.

Joyce followed her daughter into the foyer. She couldn't contain her curiosity over the identity of the date who had sent Buffy into such a tizzy. She was startled when the door swung open to reveal Spike standing on the porch.

"Evening Slayer. Joyce," he greeted as he shifted his weight between his feet. He raised a hand and dragged his fingers through the tangle of curls on top of his head. Spike had started the afternoon with his typical helmet-like hair neatly in place. That hadn't lasted very long. By the time the sun set, he had changed shirts three times and destroyed his carefully styled hair twice. He finally conceded the battle and allowed the curls to win. He had been way too stressed to repeat the useless pattern again given he knew he would mess it up in a fit of nerves within minutes.

Joyce glanced between the two obviously anxious individuals. She closed her eyes and avoided showing her disappointment. Although she quite liked William as an individual, he was not what she wanted in a significant other for her daughter. There would be no fat grand-babies or white weddings in Buffy's future if she set her cap for Spike. Joyce couldn't see a relationship with a vampire going anywhere but heartache for one or both participants. Mrs. Summers shook her head slightly and hugged her daughter as she acknowledged silently that she highly doubted she could chase William away as easily as Angel had been nudged. She suspected she could bash him repeatedly with the original fire ax and he would still stay with Buffy if he loved her.

Joyce silently watched with apprehension as Buffy wrapped her hand around Spike's elbow. Her daughter made a teasing comment as she slid her fingers over the arm of Spike's silky black dress shirt. In her mother's eyes, it looked like Buffy was petting the vampire much like she was petting the little gilly demon earlier. She found that comparison distinctly disturbing and quickly shied from the image.

Buffy waved to her mom and promised to be home before too late as the pair walked down the front porch steps. Joyce wished them a good time then slowly closed the door. She leaned her forehead against its smooth surface as she sighed deeply.

"Why can't life be easy?" she muttered to herself before pushing away from the door. She winced slightly and rubbed her temple as she moved towards the kitchen in search of some Tylenol for a slowly building headache.

* * *

"Is that Buffy in Scoops?" Xander asked Anya as they strolled arm in arm down Walnut Street on their way to the movie theater. His girlfriend squinted to stare through the storefront window across the street. A huge grin broke across her face as she noticed Spike place a huge sundae on the table then slide into the booth across from Buffy. She nodded in agreement. The former demon decided to call Buffy first thing tomorrow to find out how she managed finagling the date. Spike had seemed resistive to both their previous efforts.

"Think she wants to join us for some hack and slash fun of the big screen variety instead of the real life demon variety?" her boyfriend asked as he mentally calculated the funds in his wallet. If Anya shared a soda with him and they got a small popcorn, he could even cover Buffy's ticket if needed.

"Um, probably not," Anya answered as she tried to pull Xander down the street a bit faster. She doubted Xander would appreciate who was sharing ice cream with Buffy. She hoped to get him away before he actually noticed.

Given their size discrepancy, she failed at hustling him from view as Xander slowed his pace and whined about just checking to make sure Buffy didn't want to join them.

"She already has company," Anya informed him as she pulled at his arm.

Xander stopped walking completely as he gazed across the street. He frowned as he finally realized who was sitting with his friend.

"It's just Spike," he stated cluelessly. "Bet she would love a chance for movies with us over ice cream with the Bleached Wonder."

Anya rolled her eyes as Xander moved to cross the street. He pulled free from Anya's grasp as he stepped off the curb.

"Alexander Harris, if you bother Buffy and Spike on their first date, then I swear that you will be spending the next couple weeks with no one to watch movies, eat ice cream or play naughty nurse."

Xander froze. He whipped around to stare at his girlfriend who stood with her arms crossed over her chest and an utterly serious expression on her face.

"An?"

"I am not kidding, Xander," she warned.

"But..." Xander wheedled as he stepped back onto the sidewalk but looked longingly over his shoulder towards the ice cream parlor.

"No movies. No ice cream. No nurse," Anya restated firmly.

"But Anya..."

"None, Xander. No anything," she threatened. There was no way Anya wanted to intrude on Buffy's date. After all her years of heart break and loneliness, the Slayer deserved something good. Despite his evil roots, Anya imagined Spike would be good in all the ways that counted in her book.

Although far from thrilled, Xander shook his head but agreed with a pout. He still couldn't imagine that Buffy wanted to spend time with Spike. The couple was almost to the theater when Xander realized that Anya said that Buffy was on a date with Spike.

"Whoa... wait a minute. Buffy and Spike are on a date?" he questioned incredulously.

Anya patted her boyfriend's hand.

"Yes, honey," she confirmed while inwardly cringing. She expected the impending explosion was sure to destroy any chance they had of seeing the movie.

"But it's Spike. With the dating. And Buffy."

With a roll of her eyes, Anya confirmed that all his statements were correct. Xander's face scrunched like he suddenly suffered from severe constipation.

"But... he's a vamp and I thought Buffy wanted a guy. Like that Jerry guy at the beach party."

Anya's shoulders slumped. All she saw was visions of ruin in her immediate future. She scrambled mentally to try to stop the disaster before it erupted.

"Xander, remember how Buffy said we were extraordinary?"

The teen smiled then nodded. At the time, the compliment had warmed his heart and stroked his ego. Despite the fact that not normal and strange normally went hand in hand, extraordinary sounded more special. Xander liked the idea of being special. He especially enjoyed it when he was seen that way in the eyes of the important people in his life. His eyes bugged as Anya's unspoken point poked him between the eyes.

"Are you trying to tell me Buffy is out with Spike because he is extraordinary too?"

Xander suddenly didn't feel so great about being thought of as special. He settled into a grumpy pout. He didn't want lumped in the same category with a mass murdering monster. That wasn't the kind of special he desired.

Knowing exactly what was bothering him, Anya assured Xander that he had little in common with Spike. She gushed over his manly appeal and how good a friend he was to Buffy and how great a lover he was for her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a series of increasingly passionate kisses along his jaw and neck. Momentarily appeased and thoroughly distracted, the young man allowed the former demon to pull him towards the theater entrance and the continuation of their date. With any luck, the last row in the theater would still be available. The pair were feeling decidedly more amorous after Anya's effective misdirection.

* * *

Utterly unaware about the minor turmoil their date created across the street, Buffy and Spike raised their spoons to share the gigantic sundae the vampire had ordered. Spike's spoon zipped towards the cherry nestled on the very top of the mountain of whipped cream. He startled and froze when Buffy's spoon wrapped him on the knuckles faster than his reflexes could follow or avoid. One moment, his eyes were on the prize and the next, he was staring at the Slayer as she popped the coveted cherry into her mouth.

"You know, Pet, snagging cherries is a guy sorta thing. Not a Slayer thing," he teased as he lightly rubbed his abused hand.

"But the cherry is my favorite part," the Eternal One explained. She totally missed the underlying innuendo to her companion's comment.

"Peaches' too," Spike snipped low enough that he figured Buffy wouldn't hear him. He was mistaken.

Buffy's nose crinkled in the way Spike always found a bit cute but would be hard pressed to admit.

"I'm not really a big fan of peaches," she stated before taking a large bite of chocolate covered banana and vanilla ice cream. She thought about the hoard of canned peaches and pears she had eaten over the years. Long after humanity was gone, the Eternal One had scavenged derelict grocery stores for canned goods. Peaches, green beans and tuna had been a staple to her post humanity destruction life. In areas where demon populations were higher, some of the races maintained the original human owned and operated businesses. For a while, it made things a bit more convenient. Over time, the focus shifted from previous production and sales to more demon specific needs. The Slayer had sorely missed the ease of purchasing the things she needed as a human as life evolved on the planet. She had been forced to improvise or change often.

Lost in thought, Buffy remained motionless as the ice cream on her spoon melted and dripped onto the table. She was finally roused from her mental fugue by her companion repeatedly calling her name and reaching across the table to shake her shoulder. As consciousness returned, her eyes darted around the parlor in momentary panic until Buffy remembered where and, more importantly, when she was.

She ducked her head in embarrassment as she apologized to Spike. She scrubbed at the melted mess on the table with a couple napkins as she avoided meeting her date's gaze. She was frustrated with herself. Now matter how hard she tried, the Eternal One occasionally became lost inside her own head. She realized how strange it must appear and she worried that her friends would worry about the episodes.

When his initial annoyance at being ignored shifted to concern, Spike reached across the table and stilled Buffy's nervous cleaning motions. The mess had long since been addressed. She was just nervously scrubbing at the cleared Formica top like she couldn't stop. The Slayer finally lifted her head to reveal eyes rimmed with tears. She blinked rapidly to keep them from falling.

"Where do you go, Slayer?" Spike asked as he swiped the lone escaping tear from her cheek with his thumb.

Buffy closed her eyes and leaned against the cool, calloused hand that cupped the side of her face.

"Long ago and far away," the Eternal One finally whispered in answer to his question. The lost and desolate expression was back to haunting her eyes as she reluctantly drew away from the vampire's touch. She snatched up her spoon and returned her attention to the half melted treat sitting between them.

"You know that isn't much of an answer," the vampire grumbled as his spoon swirled through the mess although he had no intention of eating any more.

"It's the best I can do in this time and this place."

Disgust and frustration warred in Spike's head as he contemplated leaving. He was tired of misdirection and half truths from the Slayer. Since she had asked him on this date, he had expected a bit more honesty. The vampire briefly speculated that this was all an elaborate scheme to poke fun at him in some way.

Buffy's spoon chiming against the glass container pulled him from his dark thoughts.

"Perhaps we could get some drinks and find some place quieter, less public-like. Anything more than vague gloss requires privacy."

Startled that Buffy seemed to realize just how close he was to storming from Scoops, Spike dropped his spoon into the sundae bowl.

"Can't get much quieter or private than my crypt," he offered even though he expected Buffy to flat out refuse his suggestion. It wasn't the most luxurious of locals but it met the quiet and private requirements. It wasn't like the dead would carry tails. Spike made sure all the dead in his neighborhood stayed that way.

"There's a convenience store on fifth," the Slayer replied as her round about way of agreeing. "That's on the way to Sunnydale Cemetery."

Now that the promise of real answers hung in the air, Spike hesitated. Being offered something he doubted Buffy shared with anyone else was a bit overwhelming. It went against everything their previous antagonistic relationship had been.

"You sure you wanna do this, Pet?" he asked when he realized that this would be a turning point in their relations. More than sharing a simple date, this would be the Slayer sharing something utterly private. The vamp wasn't sure he was ready for the change. Meeting her gaze, that same something that clenched in his chest with increasing frequency around Buffy tightened its hold once more. He pressed at the pain as he waited for her answer.

The Slayer nodded before dropping her spoon into the last of the dessert.

"If you want to listen, then I am willing to share with you. I trust you."

Instead of replying, William stood. Hearing that the Slayer trusted him filled him with an unexpected pride. He gallantly offered a hand towards Buffy which she quickly accepted. She allowed the vampire to gently tug her from the booth and escort her from the ice cream shoppe. With a gentle smile, Spike wrapped her hand around his arm like he had often imagined escorting his wife through the cobbled streets of London. Although William never had the chance to fulfill that particular secret fantasy, he found himself strangely moved by Buffy's willingness to follow his lead. His gait took a bit more swagger into its flow as he enjoyed the tiny bit of power the Slayer gifted to him.

Just like any other couple on a first date, the pair strolled down the street discussing trivial matters. Spike learned that Buffy planned to live at home instead of moving back to the dormitory for the next semester. She also shared her surprising intention to take some introductory engineering courses along with history and art appreciation classes. Spike admitted that he wanted to continue to help Joyce at the gallery if she wanted to keep him around for muscle. Although the vampire had never balked at extorting money from the Slayer's friends, he actually enjoyed working at the gallery. He also appreciated having a steady income for blood. It wasn't too difficult to pocket smokes from stores and extort alcohol from local bars but he had to pay the butcher. It was especially nice to have the funds to occasionally purchase some more exotic blood. Otter and rabbit added some much enjoyed spice into his normal pig and beef blood diet.

Less than a half hour later, the duo found themselves facing each other from opposite sides of the sarcophagus that Spike sometimes used as a make shift table in his crypt. It also served as a bed most nights. Spike felt a bit guilty that he didn't have better accommodations. He resolved to start upgrading the crypt if Buffy was going to be a more frequent visitor. As it was, the soft glow from a pair of lit candelabras were all that held back the shadows of the stone room. The flickering lights seemed to emphasize the intimacy of the moment. It highlighted their faces yet left the periphery of the room in dark relief.

Spike twisted off the cap from a bottle of beer. Two chilled six packs rested on the floor by his foot. It was American swill but at least it was cold. Absently, Buffy removed the top from her single bottle of diet coke. She sipped the soda and opened the bag of chocolate that Spike had tossed on the counter when they paid for their drinks. Hershey Kisses scattered across the stone lid. Buffy crushed the tiny foil wrapper and thin paper plume from one of the treats after she popped the chocolate into her mouth. When the last of the rich milk chocolate goodness faded from her mouth, the Eternal One lifted her head to meet Spike's inquisitive yet patient gaze.

"Do you know who the Immortal is?" the Slayer inquired as she ordered her thoughts and decided on how best to approach her explanation.

"Sure," Spike responded with a mild frown. He wasn't about to forget the bastard who orchestrated his and Angelus' imprisonment as well as seduced Darla and Drusilla. William bet Angelus still fumed occasionally over the slimeball's success at getting the two female vampires to share a threesome with him when they refused to ever do the same for him. "What's that git got to do with anything?"

"Hmm," Buffy murmured as she played with the wrapping of another Kiss.

"Vampires aren't really immortal," the Slayer stated before tossing the second chocolate in the air and smoothly catching it in her mouth. She chomped the treat with relish then dropped the crushed wrapper beside the first one. "They die. Perhaps not as easily as a human and no where near as quickly but they are not immortal. Demons, aliens, hybrids, self-proclaimed gods, even cyborgs. Every living being. They all die. Every last lucky one of them. In all the known universe, Lazarus is one of only two beings who are unequivocally, unenviably and unforgivably immortal."

A third chocolate found its way to Buffy's teeth. She snapped at this one as if it had offended her in some manner. Its wrapper joined the other two before the Slayer reached for another one. This Kiss, she sat in the palm of her hand. She stared at it as if it held the answers to the greatest questions and mysteries of the world. An end to hunger, an enduring peace, the control of mother nature's most violent forces. All those answers sat waiting in the foil wrapped treat. Waiting in anticipation of being discovered and shared. The silence grew as the Slayer contemplated the Hershey made treat until Spike finished his beer and opened another one. Buffy still stared at the chocolate centered on her hand as he downed half of its contents.

"Slayer?" Spike hesitantly spoke. He moved as if to reach for the distracted woman's hand but stilled when Buffy suddenly shredded the foil wrapper and gobbled the Kiss she had been staring at so intently. Tiny flecks of foil and paper flitted to the sarcophagus lid. Buffy gathered the stray pieces into a tiny pile then crushed the foil together. Despite the pressure she applied, a few of the pieces fell from the tiny sphere. The pieces were too shredded to properly hold together in a ball like the other wrappers.

"Bits and pieces. Lost and lacking. Tiny tears. Mind. Body. Soul. Trapped in unending cycles until nothing remains. Nothing but unending eternity. Mind. Body. Soul. Alive yet never living. Never free."

Buffy finally looked up from the ravaged bit of trash and Spike shivered at the utter emptiness in the Slayer's gaze. For over a century, the vampire had listened to Drusilla rant and rave in rambling bits of confusion much like the Slayer had just uttered. Despite her many years of insanity, Dru had never looked so lacking in humanity. She was a demon but in this moment, Dru seemed more human in Spike's memory than the very human Slayer sitting before him. A sudden and horrible seed cracked its shell in his mind and set its thought to root. A momentary insight birthed a horror that the vampire desperately wished that he could scour from his minds eye.

"A man would do anything, commit any number of atrocities, ravage races, end worlds in the desperate pursuit of escaping immortality."

"Buffy..."

"He did, you know," the Eternal One remembered with a detachment that belied the barbarity in her mind. She met Spike's eyes and he could see the horror reflected in her expression that was missing in her tone. "End the world that is. Every last human. Gone. Destroyed in a desperate bid to rid himself of life. He was human. He thought it would work. A plague to rid the world of himself. He was wrong of course. Immortal. So much time. He should have known. The humanity had long since died within him. Mind. Body. Soul. Humanity gone but the shell, the thought, the pain. They remained."

With shaking hands, Spike opened and chugged another beer. He stared at the woman across from him in horrid fascination.

"The enjoining spell. It wasn't the past but the future strength of the Slayer line that they tapped into. It wasn't the past you saw but the future?"

Buffy shrugged. She still had no idea what the enjoining spell entailed. She hadn't been there this time around and remembered none of it from the original casting. Too many lifetimes had passed between. The Eternal One had a hard enough time just remembered the little bits and pieces of her remaining ravaged wrapper. The chocolate goodness was long gone.

Instead of answering clearly, Buffy skipped along the disjointed path she had set before herself when she agreed to tell Spike the truth.

"You seem to see me. The real me here and the real me there. Not the mask that Buffy wears to face the world but the truth behind the shell. What do you see when you look at me? How would you describe Buffy Summers?"

Unsure of how her question related and still cringing from his only partially correct self interpreted conclusions, Spike tilted his head to the side and considered the question. He smiled a bit.

"Buffy Summers is the single most annoying chit in the entirety of my life."

For a moment, the Slayer appeared a bit offended and the vampire was quick to placate her. Even though Buffy had been treating him like a friend and even flirted with revealing a real attraction for him, Spike still feared her temper. A little pain might be a bit of fun but she was more inclined to offer the big pain without the side of fun when she was particularly pissed. He lightly ran the tip of his finger along her tightly pressed lips then playfully tapped the end of her nose. She relaxed enough from the tender touches that he no longer feared immediate retribution.

"That wasn't meant as an insult," he prefaced. "I'm a vampire. You're charged with destroying my kind. If it was all flowers and puppies, then you wouldn't be you and I wouldn't be me."

The rest of her tension faded and she offered a nod for him to continue.

"You're strong," William offered in hopes of making Buffy see herself the same way that he saw her. "Quite possibly the strongest person I have ever met. Not just talking physical either. Sure, Slayers are strong. Part and parcel of the whole Chosen gig but Buffy Summers? She takes the whole thing to another level. Strength of self beyond just strength of body. You are who you are and you want what you want. You do your duty but you are more than just the responsibility of being Slayer."

"Buffy Summers is a tangled twist of contradictions wrapped up in a powerful package. You're kind. You collect people like the bloody island of misfit toys. Shy girls and dopey boys who others overlook or abuse. Fired and floundering former Watchers. Previous vengeance demons forced into humanity. Neutered vamps who can't be a full demon any longer yet can't be a proper man either. You collect them and protect them and offer them worth where others would offer only disdain. At the same time on the opposite side of the coin, you have a sharpness that can cut to the bone. You would protect a chipped vampire from sadistic torture but turn around and lash the same demon with your self righteous attitude and hurtful words."

"You are extraordinary but you play at normal for your mother and friends and perhaps even a bit for yourself."

"You embrace all that is shallow and silly in language and fashion yet you have a quick mind and can think for yourself when needed. You're confusing to those who know you and intriguing to those who don't. Captivating even in your peculiarity."

"You want to belong," Spike continued as he realized how much that specific trait they shared even if he wasn't about to admit it to anyone other than himself. He figured others would see his need to belong as the weakness that Angelus had seen it to be. "Friends. Family. Boyfriends. You want to be loved. You are so full of love and you keep searching, sacrificing, reaching, trying, hoping for that love to be returned."

"I think, above all, that you try. You try for one more minute of life. One more chance. Another day. You face doom with unwavering hope that something, somehow, you will come out the other side and have another chance for another moment. Another chance at love. Another stab at life in all its contradictory joy and harshness."

"That's the Buffy Summers I have seen."

Spike reached for Buffy. He offered her a smile that revealed more of his feelings for the Slayer than even he yet realized were taking root in his heart. She leaned into his gentle touch along her cheek and sighed in contentment at the obvious connection building between them.

"I think that's the Buffy I am still seeing. Just, there now seems to be so many layers clinging and clouding your soul that those qualities don't shine quite as brightly for the world to see."

"Hope," Buffy replied with a growing smile. "I think hope would be how I see the whole trying thing. Hope. I like that word. I always wanted it to be part of me."

Spike nodded in agreement. It was a good word. It succinctly described why Buffy tried so hard. She hoped that in the end that she would have the things she wanted in her life. The love. The joys. Even the misfit toys. She hoped and therefore she lived more fully than any Slayer before her.

"Hope versus hopelessness," Buffy expanded. That was the difference between the Eternal One and the Immortal. While he had been hopeless, she retained the tiniest thread of hope that she would one day escape the curse of immortality. "The Immortal destroyed humanity because he had no hope of escape but the Eternal One. She retained hope."

Buffy selected another kiss. She carefully peeled away the foil and gently lifted the smooth little treat from its nest. She offered it to Spike. Although chocolate and beer were not a pleasant combination for anyone's palette, the vampire allowed the Slayer to place the bite-sized bit of sweetness into his mouth. His tongue curled around the offering. He caught the tips of her fingers between his lips and sucked slightly as she withdrew them. Buffy's breath caught in her throat as she shifted a bit as heat pooled between her legs.

The slight musk of arousal tickled Spike's nose. He smirked over the momentary distraction. Pursuing the obvious sexual tension suddenly thrumming between the pair seemed a much more enjoyable pass time than discussing the horrors of the future.

Unlike previous innuendo, Spike's physical response to her sexual reaction was not missed by Buffy. She shivered slightly before taking a calming breath. She was more than willing to pursue something physical but she wanted to face her past future all at once. If they became distracted now, she was unsure of when she would want to dredge everything forward again. She expressed as much to her companion. She didn't want there to be any misunderstandings. If they were going to have a working relationship, they needed to establish an honest foundation. Spike understood and even grumpily agreed. Reluctantly, he snagged another beer instead of grabbing the Slayer. The cool bottle against his lips was not near as fulfilling as he suspected kissing Buffy would be.

Pushing beyond the momentary distraction of their bodies, they settled back into the explanation. This time, Buffy's mind didn't wander into memories. She did her best to focus on the facts and truths that she knew. She touched on bits and pieces of her future life. She shared the story about the Q'narkian who performed the magic that returned her to the current time and place. When Buffy finally admitted to being the only other truly immortal being, Spike chugged his recently opened bottle of beer, smashed it against the wall and grabbed another one. When this one was also chugged and shattered on the crypt wall, Buffy stilled his hand from starting another one.

"No amount of temper can change what happened," she counseled although she had shattered and broken enough things over the years when time became too heavily overwhelming.

"So, is she gone?" Spike questioned when Buffy finally fell silent from her long and convoluted tale.

When Buffy frowned and tilted her head as she tried to understand the question, he offered clarification.

"My Slayer. The one who originally belonged here. She's gone?"

"No..." Buffy emphasized. "I am her. It's not like I am an interloper who just stole any old body. It's mine. It always has been mine."

Spike wasn't sure if he agreed with her belief but he really couldn't argue against her point. It was her body.

"So, are you still immortal?"

Buffy froze. Her eyes widened in shock. She hadn't considered that possibility. The inability to die had been with her for so long that she hadn't imagined her body not containing the curse even here and now. Until he posed the question, she had just assumed the immortality had traveled back with her along with everything else.

"I have no clue," she admitted. A spark of morbid excitement lit her eyes at the thought of there being an end at some point. Not right this moment, but some time it would be wonderful to have a stopping point.

"Think we might want to find that out."

"Not really looking to die any time soon in case I'm not," Buffy admitted with a grin. She might hope to no longer be immortal but her current life held too much joy for her to wish for it to end any time soon.

"This life has some definite advantages," she added with a suggestive wink.

Spike leaned across the sarcophagus. He trailed a finger along Buffy's collarbone before lifting it to tip up her face slightly. His lips pressed lightly against hers.

"Seeing the appeal," he whispered against the corner of her lips before he pressed a series of kisses along her jawline.

"Oh yeah," Buffy moaned in agreement as her hands skimmed over the soft material of his shirt to wrap around his neck. In the quiet of the crypt and without thought for unanswered questions or concerns, the couple chose to revel in their mutual agreement.


	9. Chapter 9

"You know, Willow and Tara would probably be a better resource for investigating your possible immortal status," Anya commented as she walked down the street beside Buffy.

The girls had just finished sharing lunch at a sandwich shop on the square. Although he didn't get to come along because it was deemed a totally girl talk only meal, Xander had been the supplier of the cash for the pair to enjoy their afternoon. Anya had wanted all the details on the first Slayer and Vampire date last night. At the end of the meal and after Buffy shared just how wonderful Spike was at kissing, the Eternal One had mentioned their conundrum. She needed to know if her past body with her overwritten consciousness was still trapped in an immortal cycle.

"You know a lot more about magic than I will ever know," Buffy complimented. Despite all her years alive, magic had never been a skill she acquired. Her interests had tended towards more physically useful studies like medical care, engineering, and agriculture. She had relied on other more gifted individuals in regards to anything magic related. "And to be honest, I am not really comfortable with sharing the details of my existence with the two witches. Not now. Perhaps not ever."

"I think Tara might be trust worthy but Willow? Something is way off there," the Slayer added. The Eternal One might not know why she didn't trust her supposed best friend but her repeated visceral responses to the witch kept her on edge. She was assaulted with nagging unease every time Willow approached her. It had obviously strained their chance at a friendly relationship. Buffy would be the first to admit though that she wasn't upset by this development. She was quite content with being friends with Anya, Xander and Spike.

"Hmm, she does tend towards the jealous and irresponsible," Anya admitted as she considered the red head and all the problems she had caused with either her magic or her meddling in Buffy's life. "I can see you not feeling comfortable including Tara. With them being lovers, I am sure she would share anything you told her."

"On the other hand, I have not told Xander your secret so perhaps you could share with Tara only? If you stress the secrecy importance?" the former demon speculated.

Buffy promised to consider her suggestion if they were unable to find answers themselves.

In a few minutes, the pair reached the magic store.

"Nice location," Anya muttered as she glanced up and down the street. "Lots of foot traffic in this region. Not too far from residential areas and bordering on one of the more demon populated neighborhoods. If the merchandise is of good quality, I am sure the proprietor does quite well."

Buffy merely shrugged. Economics were not really one of her interests. As long as she had access to her current needs, she was thrilled beyond measure. Customer service and profit margins bored her to distraction. Additionally, the concept of money had fallen into obscurity as the influence of humanity waned. Bartering skills for items had become common place. Luckily for the Slayer, the Eternal One had very unique skills available for those moments. She had seen little need for accumulating whatever was considered wealth for whatever culture was prominent at the time.

The bell above the door jingled jauntily as the pair entered the store. Although the lights were lit, no one greeted them. Anya commented on the strangeness of the missing welcome. She insisted that a good shopkeeper would want to make her customers feel comfortable. They would spend more money that way. They would also be more likely to return and spend more in the future.

Buffy shook her head at her friend's strong Capitalistic leanings.

"Hmm, I think I found why he offered no hello," Buffy stated as she moved down one of the aisles in the book section.

Anya hurried towards her friend.

"Ah yes... that would do it," the former demon easily agreed as she noticed the dried husk that was the former proprietor. Unlike how most folks would respond, neither girl seemed particularly upset at finding the body. They took death in stride and shifted directly to practically problem solving the situation. They both moved around the dried corpse cataloging what details were easily observed.

The mummified body was crouched on the floor with its hand slightly raised towards the bottom shelf. A rusted and cracked price tagging device remained clutched in the dead man's hand. The proprietor had been pricing new merchandise on the lower shelf when whatever killed him occurred.

"Interesting. Instant mummy," Anya observed.

Buffy nodded. It was obvious from the body's position that whatever killed the man had been instantaneous. There hadn't even been time for the man to fall or drop his trade tool. The Eternal One moved around the room until she found a thin yet inflexible strip of wood. She pulled it from a display of hard wood wands. She rolled her eyes. She never remembered ever seeing any magic practitioners waving magic wands. They must have been for fools and non-practitioners. Liking the way the smooth wood felt in her hand, she slid the original one into her back pocket and then snagged a new one. Returning, the Slayer knelt beside the body. She used the wooden wand to shift a bit of the man's rotting clothes to check underneath.

The cloth disintegrated into bits of smaller pieces and dust. The desiccated skin under the dried cloth was just as wrinkled and dehydrated as the visible skin. Buffy hummed as she moved around the body and continued to poke and prod like a kid performing a dissection. She intently studied as much of the body as she could. She even got down low to the floor so she could look inside the dead man's nose. Leaving the wand beside the body, she stood.

"Not really a mummy. Brain cavity seems intact so it wasn't pulled free," the Slayer observed. She tapped her chest. "No signs of organ removal either."

Anya tilted her head slightly then frowned.

"You remember how mummies were made but not details about your own life?"

Buffy shrugged. In most cases and barring serious trauma, she only found flashes of long lost lifetimes but knowledge that she encountered a number of times seemed to stay in place. She had a horde of languages rattling around in her head and even though English had fallen into forgotten language status, the thoughts in her mind had still been created and expressed in Buffy's original language. She thought in English and translated to all the other languages she had learned. Bits and pieces of history remained too. She knew that both the second and third world wars stemmed from a combination of empire building as well as racial and religious intolerance. She knew that she had not been alive for WWII but she retained vivid memories of WWIII. She recalled human exploration in space as well as the first alien crafts to arrive on Earth. Natural disasters, massive battles, and years of fighting against and fraternizing with the Immortal rattled around in her brain. They all swirled in her head in a jumbled mess.

After almost five minutes of staring into space as she jumped from image to image, Anya snapped her fingers in front of the Eternal One's eyes until she focused once more on the present. Buffy apologized then dredged up an explanation for her knowledge about mummification.

"Forever is a long time. I spent years and years reading books and holoscans. I even lived in the remains of a massive library for a couple hundred years. That was actually one of the nicest homes I ever maintained. Additionally, the Knarth mummify their dead to ensure their return to their god after death. Otherwise, they believed their sentience was trapped forever on this plane. Not where they wanted to remain. They had this whole hierarchy thingy. It was based in the same deities and theories as the Egyptian traditions. Wasn't a fan."

"Zealots can be scary," Anya stated sagely.

Buffy agreed. Religious zealots, no matter what creed, race or composition, orchestrated so many acts of evil in her past. It had been a repeating pattern in both humanity and demonic cultures. She had never understood it. She doubted she ever would. Taking a deep breath, Buffy forced away her melancholy thoughts about the futility of the worlds populations. She shifted her focus back to the strange mummy. It was something she stood a chance at addressing.

She speculated that the effect was a spell gone wrong or a possible attack against the shopkeeper.

"You know, you have a great resource you could use for just this kind of thing," Anya offered. When Buffy just frowned in confusion, the former demon reminded her that she had a Watcher. Investigating things like strange spells or magical backlashes were right up his alley.

Buffy blushed as she admitted sheepishly that she had forgotten about the research assistance. She explained that it had been so long since anyone had provided her with help investigating strange phenomenon that she hadn't considered asking for assistance. Anya understood. She kindly offered to call Giles and request he come to the magic store.

Once Giles promised to arrive as soon as possible, Buffy and Anya flipped the open sign so that no unsuspecting customers would enter while there was a corpse in the aisle. They then settled on the steps near the entrance to wait for Rupert. To fill the time, Buffy asked Anya about her more interesting curses as a vengeance demon. She happily complied by weaving tales of punishment of misogynistic philanderers that quite impressed the Slayer.

Buffy complimented the former vengeance demon on her creativity as well as her longevity. Since everyone else always wanted her to refrain from discussing her past, Anya preened. The Slayer's interest provided a validation and acceptance of her past that was sorely missing from her current life. She had just started a tale about the wish that led to the 1905 Russian Revolution when Giles arrived. She promised to finish her story later as the former Watcher fumbled into the store.

Giles complained about the lights which Buffy had turned off to maintain the closed atmosphere. Anya flipped the switch while Buffy showed him to the body. Intrigued, Giles repeated the same investigating steps that the Eternal One had already performed. Settling back on his heels beside the dried shopkeeper, Rupert removed his glasses and tapped them against his thigh.

"He looks remarkably like the victims created by Ampata. Don't you agree, Buffy?" he questioned while looking to the Slayer for conformation.

Buffy froze for a fraction of a second. She was unsure how to respond to the observation. She was saved from needing to reply when Anya jumped into the ensuing quiet.

"OH! Inca Mummy Girl. She totally wanted my Xander. Glad she didn't suck him dry. I would have hated to miss all my Xander induced orgasms."

For a moment, Rupert appeared as if he swallowed his tongue. He shook his head. The older British man was never sure how to take some of the more provocative statements made by Xander's girlfriend.

"Yes, Anya. That would have surely been a tragedy."

"I know. Totally," the former demon concurred with a wink towards Buffy.

The Eternal One offered her friend a thankful smile. The socially inappropriate comments nicely distracted Giles from pressing her on an incident of which she had no recollection.

Giles suggested that they search the store to see if they discovered any clues about the source of the death. Lacking any better suggestions, Buffy and Anya agreed. The three methodically moved through the shop while searching for anything that might have caused the dried husk that used to be Mr. Bogarty.

As he sorted through papers behind the counter, Giles uttered an exclamation of amazement.

"Good lord," he muttered as he double checked the accounting book he found underneath a stack of mail order purchase requests.

"What?" Buffy asked as she exited one of the aisles. She was instantly concerned by his exclamation and scanned the store for a possible threat.

"Well, I had no idea the profit margins on a shop like this were so high."

Buffy frowned but Anya immediately agreed. She started raving about the store location and merchandising possibilities. For the first time in ages, Giles found himself impressed with Anya's insightful observations. The pair became side-tracked with the potential profits to be acquired by this particular magic store. The Slayer put up with the conversation for a few minutes before she finally snapped at the distracted capitalists.

"This is really not helping with the whole mystery mummy," she reminded them.

Duly chastised, Giles and Anya returned to their investigation. Unfortunately, none of them found anything of merit in regards to the proprietor's condition. Finally, Giles mentioned his intention to call the police while Anya did a quick turn through the store and collected the things that originally brought Buffy and her to the store. She slipped the items into a bag and followed the Slayer from the store since Giles had offered to wait for the patrolman to arrive. He never noticed the girls sneaking away with a number of books and supplies. He was too busy sifting through the sales and profit details for the store one additional time before the authorities could usher him from the store.

* * *

Later that day, Buffy bounced into the kitchen from the back yard where she had been playing with her pet demon. The Eternal One had needed a distraction from her worries about her possibly retained immortal status. She hoped that Anya found something to help her soon.

Billy Gilly clamored across the linoleum floor as he scurried to the ferret fountain Joyce had purchased for the little guy so that he could have fresh water when neither Summers woman were home. With his butt in the air, the little demon rapidly slurped some of the cooled and circulating water. Once satisfied, he moved to rub against Joyce's leg as she sat on a stool at the counter. Absently, Buffy's mom rubbed his head without lifting her eyes from the article in the most recent addition of ARTnews. She no longer found the little demon even remotely threatening and was actually impressed with how well her daughter was caring for the pet.

After reaffirming his place in Joyce's affections, the tired demon moved from the kitchen to take a nap in his little cat den. Before Buffy could pass through the room on the way to her bedroom and her own possible afternoon nap, her mother called to her. Joyce closed her magazine and watched her daughter perch on the stool opposite her position. She smiled in return when Buffy grinned at her while snagging a pretzel from Joyce's snack bowl.

"Would you like to order some Chinese for supper tonight?" Joyce inquired. She hadn't planned anything for the meal because she had originally thought she would be working late at the gallery. Since her superhuman summer help had gotten her latest acquisitions unpacked and displayed a day ahead of schedule, she had gotten a reprieve.

"Sorry mom," Buffy answered with real regret. "I have already have plans."

"Are you going out with Spike again?" Joyce inquired. She kept her tone empty of any inflection which would indicate her concern about her daughter having yet another relationship with a vampire.

With a silly smile on her lips that her mother was sure hadn't been seen in years, Buffy nodded happily.

Joyce glanced down at the counter while she debated with herself once again about her feelings regarding Buffy's latest beau. Although she hated to burst Buffy's current happy bubble, the seemingly older Summers woman decided not to remain silent. She cared too much for her daughter's future to refrain from voicing her concerns.

"About Spike," she opened.

"What about him?" Buffy questioned as she reached to the fruit basket for a couple grapes. She popped one of the purple seedless fruits into her mouth while waiting for her mother to explain. She happily chewed. Having easy and tasty snacks at her fingertips without any real effort was still an incredible joy. The Eternal One doubted she would be losing that enjoyment any time soon.

"Are you sure you want to start something with another vampire?"

The smile slid from her daughter's face to be replaced by a pinched frown.

"Don't you like Spike?" Buffy responded. She was confused. Her mother always treated Spike well. They had long discussions about art and books. She didn't understand why Joyce would suddenly be concerned about his vampire status.

Joyce pressed her lips together and took a deep breath.

"Yes. Of course I like him," she replied. Her fingers absently slid back and forth over the binding spine of her magazine. "He's quite personable and polite with me."

A tentative smile returned to Buffy's face.

"He's totally a cutie too," the Slayer added.

Nodding, Joyce had to agree. The bleached blonde vampire was quite attractive despite his rather dated clothing choices. In her worried mother mind, his attractiveness physically or personality wise were not the issue.

"Don't you think you would be happier dating a human? Someone a bit more normal? Who would enjoy some of the non-slayer related parts of your life. Maybe a nice college boy? Someone who could give you a real future. Support you. Share a life. Give you children."

Buffy froze. She blinked slowly as her mind spiraled onto one of the topics she had avoided for so many ages just like regular folks avoided the plague and elevator music. She stood so quickly that her stool toppled to the floor. Joyce flinched at the unexpected crash of furniture smacking the floor.

"Buffy?" Joyce called as concern instantly clenched in her chest. She too stood as she watched her daughter's face seem to lose any and all expression. It was like a switch flipped inside the Slayer that turned off her humanity. A shiver crept up Joyce's spine as she repeated her daughter's name.

The Slayer failed to respond to the verbal prompts. Instead, she blinked one more time before taking a step backwards. She turned and shuffled towards the kitchen door.

Slightly panicked, Joyce rushed after her daughter. She clasped her by the shoulder in a bid to turn her child back to the room. The Slayer shook off the touch without a word. She opened the back door and Joyce grabbed her once again. Buffy violently jerked from her mother's hands. Without looking back, the Eternal One fled into the backyard. While Joyce called to her anxiously, Buffy vaulted the fence and sped into the twilight.

Joyce was left standing and gaping in the glowing light of the kitchen doorway as her daughter disappeared into the shadows. She already regretted bringing up the topic of Buffy's relationship with Spike.

As if on autopilot, the Eternal One wandered through Sunnydale. While she traveled down streets and alleys, through playgrounds and parks, she noticed nothing about her trip. She was so lost in her own head that she never realized when her feet naturally took her along paths she normally traveled for patrol. Despite the route, she wasn't looking for supernatural targets. In fact, she strode right past a cowering gramft demon that had been feasting on the innards of some unlucky person's pet. Normally, the Slayer would have disposed of the nasty little creature that preyed on anything smaller than itself. Its diet normally included wildlife, house pets, and small children. Pretty much anything alive that was smaller than a German Shepard was on the menu.

Buffy was in no condition to be the Slayer in this moment and the gramft had a chance to slink into the sewers unmolested.

Just like a shattered and recently resurrected Slayer would seek comfort and escape in a cold crypt in the arms of a vampire less dead than she felt, Buffy's feet found their way unerringly to the same crypt. Her mind might have lost the memory but her subconscious had not. It might even have been locked into her muscle memory. Still unaware of her surroundings, she stopped moving. A fine tremble had taken hold of her body as she leaned her forehead against the cool metal door. Unconsciously, her hand raised to rest beside her head. She moaned softly.

Standing inside his home and mixing burba weed with his pig's blood, Spike raised his head. He glanced towards the entrance as the Slayer's presence called to his demonic nature.

With a scrape of metal, Buffy stumbled into the doorway as Spike pulled open the outer crypt door.

"Slayer?" he murmured in confusion as her forward momentum halted when she came to rest against his t-shirt covered chest. Automatically, his hand released the door and wrapped protectively around the Slayer as she collapsed into him.

"Luv? Bit early for our date," he prodded in hopes of getting an answer about why she was at his crypt when they had plans for him to pick her up in an hour. He had already noticed that Buffy was not dressed as nicely as she would have for their date. Her lack of date apparel and her strange strange lack of affect made it obvious that something was seriously wrong with the Summers woman.

When all the Slayer did was lean against his body and shiver, Spike pushed her slightly away from his chest. Releasing her right bicep, he pressed up her chin with his left hand. His body mirrored her shivers as he noticed her unfocused eyes. This was worse than a simple bad day. An unexpected level of concern pricked at Spike's conscious. Hoping to get some answers, the vampire shook the Slayer lightly while calling her name. She still failed to respond.

"Bugger me," he growled when she remained locked away in her own mind. It was obvious she wasn't waking to herself with any normal means. Bracing himself for the inevitable pain, Spike stepped back and smacked the side of Buffy's face with his open hand. The force rocked the Slayer back a couple steps while the chipped vampire cringed and grabbed for the side of his head.

Time seemed to freeze. It was just for a moment but if felt like an eternity to the shocked vamp.

He slowly lowered his hand from his strangely not throbbing skull. His wide eyes reflected momentary shock before a light of life that had been missing for ages sparked. The same shimmer that was lacking in Buffy's eyes found a home on Spike's face. The vampire felt alive and vital in a way he had not since his capture by the now defunct Initiative.

Stalking towards the Slayer, Spike called to her in a taunting song of her position instead of her name. He stopped directly in front of the mentally lost blond. She was a victim waiting for easy destruction at the hands of a true predator. He skimmed a fingertip over the slightly swollen imprint of his fingers on her cheek.

"Slayer..." he purred with just a hint of malice in his predominately sultry tone.

Sliding his hand along her cheek until his fingers carded lightly through her hair, Spike leaned towards her opposite ear. He nipped her earlobe before murmuring directly into her ear.

"Come back to me, Pet, or I'm gonna resort to something a bit extreme here. Not sure you want that happening."

The Eternal One merely leaned into Spike's body and rested her bowed head on his shoulder.

"Buffy... wake-y, wake-y Slayer," Spike coaxed before morphing into his bumpies and fangs. He dragged his teeth across the delicate curve of her neck. The tiniest hint of blood welled in the thin scratch lines. His tongue swiped over the almost instantly healing injury. Taste exploded across his senses. He clutched the Slayer against his chest tighter while a shivery moan escapes from his parted lips. He warred within himself as he sheltered the ultimate prize in his arms and just waiting for the sting of his fangs.

"Whoah, Luv!" the vampire exclaimed as the Eternal One collapsed against him fully. He caught her against his chest before shifting his support. After shaking off his game face, Spike lifted the limp girl with one arm under her knees and the other supporting her back as her head rested tonelessly against his shoulder. All thought and joy over the lack of chip response fell to the back of his mind as he focused on the woman in his arms.

Spike carried Buffy over to the chair he had purchased from a second hand store with his first paycheck from Joyce. He settled into the comfy plush seat and prepared to wait for the Slayer to return to her senses.

Although not the most patient fellow normally, Spike remained in place for almost twenty minutes before Buffy finally swam back to the surface of her vast ocean of painful memories.

"William..." she whispered almost reverently.

"Hmm?" Spike responded when he thought she was finally addressing him. He couldn't have been farther from the truth.

Tears began flowing down her cheeks as she repeated the name.

"William. He was my first."

Confusion clouded Spike's thoughts as he realized Buffy was not actually seeing him as she spoke. Somewhere in her past she had held some other William close to her heart. That fact seemed to cause her an untold amount of pain.

"His eyes were the brightest blue. His soul was gentle. He should never have been the child of a Slayer. Too soft. Too trusting," she whispered in a choked voice shared between ragged breaths.

"A Sharl dismembered him in my front yard."

"Oh, Buffy... Luv..." Spike whispered in horror as he finally realized the specific horror haunting her.

"It took me three years of almost non-stop hunting. Nothing existed but the kill. The hunt. Destruction and pain. Until finally the entire Sharl species was extinct."

Spike found himself speechless. How could he possibly respond to her still paralyzing pain? He was left itchy and uncomfortable with his inability to ease her pain. Unaware of Spike's desire to help her but insecurity about the proper actions, the Eternal One continued to share.

"Mitsuko and Shinobu came only a few years apart. She grew to be a radiant beauty. Called at..." Buffy paused. The details were a bit fuzzy along the edges even if the images of her second and third children were seared into her memory.

"At fourteen," the Slayer confirmed with a nod. "I failed to save her from an apocalypse that leveled the city. Almost the whole island actually. So many dead but her brother never forgave me for crawling from the rubble. He died of old age on the continent. Never spoke to me again."

For the next hour, Buffy rambled through names of children who died hundreds, even thousands of years ago. Each one was a sharp and jagged reminder of her failures and weaknesses. Although she might have forgotten herself, those dead children remained. Some died horrible deaths at the hands of evil monsters of both the human and demonic varieties. Others lived full lives that still tore at the Eternal One when they escaped their mortal coils. They were ghosts in her mind that never fully faded. The longer she spoke, the more horrified Spike become. He could not imagine giving life over and over again with the hope of happiness only to have it shattered a few years later.

"After the fall of humanity and the last of the vampires crumbled to dust, there were eleven," Buffy shared before falling silent. Her silent tears turned to wracking sobs that shook both her body and the body of the vampire who cradled her protectively. Memories of the more than forty years she spent captive in a Dreski'an fortress assaulted her. The advanced demon culture had captured her when she was incapacitated with one of her bouts of crippling depression brought on by loneliness. She had been subjected to all manner of torture and abuse while under their rule. She had been so devastated that it had taken her years to find the strength to plan and execute a successful escape. She could not even remember how many times she died in the hell hole. Panic overtook the Eternal One as it always did when she thought about that time period. She started to thrash and scream.

Spike's head snapped back as her elbow connected with his jaw. He clutched at her desperately in hopes of preventing her from hurting herself or him further. Because of the violent struggle, they ended on the dusty and cold crypt floor with her pounding on his shoulders and back as Spike trapped her beneath his body. He was lucky that Slayer was so distraught. It made her actions and attacks wild and mostly ineffective. Despite her lack of skill currently exhibited, he knew his shoulders and back would be blanketed in bruises by the end of the night. Slowly the blows died away until Buffy only clung desperately to William's shoulders. She clutched him in an embrace that would have crushed a normal man. As it was, his shoulders creaked and protested the painful hug.

Drawing on years of comforting Drusilla when she came unhinged, Spike just held Buffy and whispered soothing words against her neck while he held her just as tightly as she held him.

With her voice little more than a raspy whisper after all her screaming, Buffy shared the end of her litany of dead daughters and sons. Three of the half demon babies died when she was beaten to death. They did not regenerate with her immortal body. The others had survived gestation only to be torn from her arms and devoured by her hellish captors.

"After I finally escaped, I vowed that there would be no more children."

"Please tell me the Dreski'an met the same end as the Sharl."

Buffy nodded. It had taken a couple decades but the Immortal had helped her ensure the destruction of their entire civilization. She fell silent and still. Spike rolled off her body and leaned back against the chair. He gathered the disheveled Slayer into his lap and set to working the tangles out of her hair as he waited for her to resume speaking.

When she offered no explanation for her foray into past trauma, the vampire asked her for one.

"Joyce wants me to find a nice normal man, get married and give her grandchildren."

Spike's eyes narrowed as he realized the unspoken rejection of their budding relationship by the Slayer's mother.

"That what you want, Kitten?" he asked as he continued to pet and sooth her. His hand no longer shook as he trailed it through her now smoothed hair.

Buffy shook her head. Her trembling had ceased also. A bone deep weariness settled into her entire body and she sagged further against her vampire.

"No," she firmly stated. "A world of no. Even if we find out I'm no longer immortal, the answer will probably still be no way in hell."

Spike pulled her tighter into his embrace. She sighed contentedly and snuggled into a more comfortable position against his chest.

"Vamps can't make babies," he stated quietly.

Buffy tilted her head up and offered him a soggy but sincere smile.

"Just one more reason why you might be perfect to me," she replied before pressing a quick kiss against the under side of his chin. Although his only reply was to momentarily tighten his hug, Spike rejoiced in her easy acceptance of their relationship. They might have been just starting to build something, but he was thrilled that she saw him for who and what he was. It was official. Spike might not be in love with the Slayer but he suspected he would be falling pretty soon. The vampire smiled softly and rubbed his chin against the top of her bowed head. He definitely preferred this Buffy Summers over the previous one.


	10. Chapter 10

Joyce flipped the switch on the gallery's stylized open sign. It had been a commissioned piece from a local artist who worked with glass pieces for light accented sculptures. The brilliantly colored light died and she turned in the dimmed store towards the front door. It was her normal routine. Every night after turning off the sign, she would lock the front door before heading to her office. Some nights she would stay in her private space to review sales sheets and prospective arts submission. Other nights, she just grabbed her purse and keys and headed home through the back door where her car was parked in the small private lot.

Tonight was supposed to be one of those short nights. She didn't have any paperwork or portfolios to review. She had met with a new artist that morning and he signed a contract for her to feature some paintings for commission. Her keys were in her hand as she exited her office. She squeaked and dropped them when she encountered an unexpected and dark shadow in the hall. A pale hand snatched the keys from the air before they clattered to the ground.

"'Lo Joyce," Spike greeted as he held out the key collection to its owner. The dimmed hallway prevented her from seeing the charming smile she knew that he was sporting. She reflexively smiled in return. Despite her reservation, Joyce wasn't immune to the good looking vampire. She appreciated his wit and carriage even if she didn't like him dating her daughter.

"Good heavens, Spike," the gallery owner scolded lightly as she clenched her hand against her chest in response to her surging adrenaline. Although she had never felt threatened by the blonde vampire, she hadn't expected anyone to join her in the supposedly empty gallery. "You practically scared the life out of me."

Spike smirked.

"Well, least I can still scare someone," he shared while dropping his offering into Joyce's hand. She offered him another genuine smile as she closed her office door. She knew how much the vampire resented the chip in his head and she found his attitude a bit amusing.

"Buffy wasn't here today," Joyce stated. She figured that the vampire had come to the gallery in hopes of seeing her daughter. Since she hadn't made plans for him to work this evening either, his arrival had come as a complete shock.

"I know," he replied. "She was at University today. I have plans to meet her tonight for patrol."

"I was actually hoping to steal some of your time. I'm thinkin' there's some important information that was never properly shared with you," the vampire explained. William had spent a good part of the day trying to figure out if this was the right thing to do. It had kept him from sleeping properly and had made him a bit jumpy. He hoped that discussing his concerns with the Slayer's mother would help relieve some of his tension.

Perplexed, Joyce reopened her office door and motioned Spike into the room. If the vampire needed to tell her something important, they might as well be comfortable for the discussion.

She delicately sat behind her desk while Spike sprawled in one of the two utility chairs she kept in the room so that employees and vendors had somewhere to sit while they addressed business. She had a separate and more elegantly decorated meeting room for prospective artist or client meetings.

Utterly amazed at how much space the average sized vampire could take up in her small office, Joyce turned on her desk lamp and waited expectantly for her unexpected visitor to share his important news. She didn't need to wait long.

"You have a right amazing daughter, Joyce," he stated.

She nodded. Joyce had always thought Buffy was something special. Whether she was skating in kiddy competitions, cheering at junior high basketball games or playing make believe with her cousin, Buffy had always captured her mother's attention and affection. She had been the child other mothers wished they had. At least that was how it had been until Buffy was called as the Slayer. Then it was like her perfect little girl was replaced with a pod child who did nothing but cause trouble and strife. In retrospect, Joyce realized that her daughter hadn't meant to be a problem child. She was just forced into a horrible situation by some horrible force who couldn't appreciate Buffy's special potential.

"She's amazing. Special," the vamp emphasized. Spike's thoughts mirrored his companion's musing. Despite the parallel in feeling, he firmly believed that Joyce didn't fully appreciate Buffy's potential.

Again, Joyce nodded. She fully agreed and wondered when Spike would get to the point.

"She's the Slayer."

This statement seemed to carry extra weight in his voice although Joyce didn't understand why Spike was placing so much stress on the point. She knew Buffy was a Slayer. She didn't like it but she had accepted the fact.

"I know," Joyce stated.

Spike clicked his tongue and shook his head a few times.

"Don't think you actually do. Or at least you don't understand what being the Slayer actually means."

"I know it means she spends her nights staking vampires and killing demons when she should be studying or socializing," Joyce stated indignantly. The gallery owner was slightly offended at her vampire visitor intimating that she didn't understand her daughter or her calling.

"Very true but its a bit more than that. Slayers are more than their strength and speed and ability to stake a vamp. There is something special in them that makes them Chosen. Sets them apart. There's something like six billion people on the planet. Half meet the main criteria of being a slayer. Out of all those females, billions of 'em, Joyce, your daughter was Chosen."

"Whatever that special thing is inside Buffy, it makes her unique. Even among slayers she stands out. She is utterly amazing. Don't think you realize just how unique she is."

"Did you know that your daughter is one of the oldest Slayers in over a century? Only two other Slayers lasted past the age of twenty in all that time. Course, the one might'a lasted a bit longer still if she hadn't crossed my path but that's not the point. Real point is that even among slayers, Buffy is something special."

Horrified by the disturbing fact about slayer mortality that Spike refused to sugar-coat, Joyce stared at the vampire. No one had every blatantly shoved her daughter's impending and inevitable demise into her face. She had perfected the art of repression in regards to her daughter's calling. She hated that Spike wasn't allowing her to keep living in her fantasy world. It was a hard pill to swallow and Joyce choked on the thought of her daughter's death.

"Only two?"

Spike nodded.

"Yes, Joyce. Only two. Slayers have short, violent lives and nothing, I mean, nothing about those lives are normal."

Joyce bristled as she informed Spike that her daughter deserved a normal life.

Spike shook his head sadly. For the life of him, he couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be normal. It was beyond boring. He had been normal once but hadn't really been alive until he died. Only then did life become extraordinary.

"So you say but that ain't the way it worked out. She isn't normal and normal isn't gonna work for her."

Out of sheer stubbornness, Joyce's chin tipped up defiantly. She refused to accept that Buffy wasn't able to have all the things Joyce envisioned for her future.

Spike clicked his tongue and shook his head slightly.

"Joyce, you are living in fantasy land. Wake up and face the facts. Buffy isn't gonna graduate with some meaningful degree, find the perfect job and the perfect man, do the whole white wedding, pop out a couple bits and own the whole picket fence lifestyle. She's humoring you and herself by going to college. She already has a job and she isn't gonna get an early retirement or pension plan."

"Buffy is the Slayer until she dies and slayers don't get a real chance at all the amenities. They can't. Husbands and kiddies are weaknesses. Easy targets for all the beasties."

"But..."

Spike rolled his eyes. He didn't understand why the Slayer's mother was so insistent on ignoring the truth. She was an intelligent woman. It made no logical sense the she couldn't comprehend the concept. The whole matter made his head spin in confusion.

"How long you think a slayer's sprog would last if Angelus took an interest in that slayer? Hmm? Lots of vamps and demons out there that would love a chance to mentally shatter a slayer so it's easier to shatter their bodies. For that matter, how long do you think a slayer with a bun in the oven would last on patrol? Doubt it's easy to stake a vamp when you can barely waddle to the bathroom. The Watcher's Council would definitely take measures against a Slayer seeking maternity leave. Someone needs to protect world and it sure as hell isn't gonna be them."

Joyce pressed her shaking hands tightly together in her lap. She stared at her nails and fleetingly wondered if she should have a manicure. She flinched when she realized her mind was hiding from the facts being presented. She frowned as she considered the accusation that she was hiding from the truth of her daughter's life. She shied from the possibility. She wasn't ready to surrender her dreams. Even if Buffy didn't share them, Joyce still wanted what she wanted for her girl.

"You are only telling me this because you want me to accept your relationship with Buffy. Because you can't give her the things she needs."

Spike sighed.

"Would be nice but I don't really need your permission."

Joyce's spine straightened.

"You're too old for her."

Spike snorted. He covered his unexpected smile with his hand until he regained control of his amusement. Joyce did not appreciate his dismissal of her concern but he offered no rebuttal. It wasn't like he was going to admit to being a mere babe in a cradle compared to her daughter at this point.

Resolved to make her point any way possible, Joyce jumped to her next argument.

"I can't approve. You and Buffy are from two different worlds."

"You're wrong," Spike replied evenly as he shook his head sadly. Shifting from his comfortable sprawl, the vampire sat forward until his face was illuminated by the desk lamp. Bones shifted. His eyes changed color and his smile turned predatory. Joyce shivered and cringed from the frightening display. She spent so much time around Spike in his handsome human guise that it was easy to forget his scary side. "I'm one-a the things that goes bump in the night. You daughter hunts us. We live in the same world."

Spike shook away his game face.

"You're the one from a different world than Buffy. You can hide from it all you want but it doesn't change the facts."

He stood. With his hands in his duster pockets, he rolled back and forth from the balls of his feet to his heels. He waited for Joyce to respond. Although she didn't reply of agree, he noticed her shoulders lower slightly. It might not have been a surrender but he figured she was at least considering the facts. He waited a moment longer in the quiet before sweeping his hand towards the door.

"Come on, Joyce. Allow me to walk you to your car. It's dark. Don't want you meeting with something nasty in the dark."

She switched off her desk lamp and followed the vampire into the dark hallway.

"It's not that I don't like you, William," she offered in an attempt to put out the fire on the burning bridge between them.

Spike stopped to open the back door. He offered her a cocky grin even though it wasn't really how he was feeling.

"Course you do. I'm a right likable fellow."

Joyce smiled softly in return. She reached out and grasp his forearm.

"I just... I want so much for her."

"I know. Just maybe, you should find out what she wants for herself."

Joyce shook her head.

"That would be you," she muttered as she slipped her car key into the lock.

A smirk settled on Spike's lips as he watched the Summers SUV turn out of the parking lot and out of sight. It was quite a stroke to his ego to know that the Slayer wanted him and she wasn't making it a secret.

"Guess it's a good thing she can have me," he muttered to himself as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His euphoria lasted until he reached the end of the alley near the movie theater. He rolled his neck and watched the patrons leaving the early show. Habits of a lifetime easily slid to the forefront of his mind. He unconsciously licked his lips. He had marked off one of his chores on his checklist for the night. He just had one more thing to investigate before meeting Buffy for patrol. Whistling softly he fell into step behind a pair of college aged students who had just left the theater. The vampire shadowed them down the dark street until they ducked into an alley that was a shortcut towards UC Sunnydale. Grinning at their foolishness and his luck, he followed them into the darkness.

* * *

"Hey Handsome!" Buffy greeted happily as she popped off the top of a tombstone where she had been sitting and waiting for her slightly late patrol date partner. Despite her exuberance in response to Spike's arrival, she immediately noticed his slight cringe when she spoke. She instantly shifted to concerned mode. She asked if he was hurt and what was wrong. He waved off her concern. When the Slayer pressed further, the vampire flinched. For just a second, a flash of guilt shifted through his eyes.

"Spike... what's wrong?"

He sighed.

"Just a headache, Slayer. Nothing to worry your pretty little head about. Won't interfere with patrol."

Frowning, Buffy reached for his arm. She knew enough about vampire physiology to know that they didn't suffer from migraines or other sicknesses like humans did. If Spike's head hurt, there had to be a tangible cause. When she stated such, Spike offered her a tired smile. He waved it off as just a flash from his chip.

Concern clouded her face as she worried if the implant was malfunctioning.

Although tickled that the Slayer was more worried about his health than a possible failure of his government supplied leash, Spike assured her that it was working just fine.

"Just bumped into a couple in an alley. No harm done."

"Maybe not to them but you look a bit worse for wear. Maybe you want to skip patrol?" she soothed as she slipped her arm though his and started leading him towards the cemetery exit. This one was literally dead so she easily shifted her plans to walk Spike back to his crypt before finishing her rounds on her own.

"A bit a violence will have me good as new," the vamp promised with a convincing grin.

Buffy shrugged and deferred to his judgment. After all, it was his head.

After three graveyards, a speed cruise through the Bronze and a side trip near the docks, the supernatural couple strolled through their final cemetery of the night. When they spotted a vampire sneaking through the shadows, Spike offered to watch the fun. He already got his bit of violence when they took out a pair of Chaos demons who were caught sabotaging an electrical junction box near the docks. The lingering effects of the chip firing earlier had long since faded and he was pleased as punch over the progression of the evening. Content, the vampire leaned against a tall marble monument and watched the Slayer toss the stupid idiot who hadn't run at the first sight of the little blond fury who was currently kicking his rear up one tombstone and down another.

Spike was so intent on enjoying the show that he never noticed the rolling fog that swept across the grass. It swirled to a stop in the shadow of a large angel statue that marked the resting place for someones long dead grandmother. Dark eyes flashed in the fog as the apparition watched Buffy jump high in the air. Her booted foot connected with the staggering vampire's chin. Her prey fell and the Slayer easily dispatched him when she returned to the ground. After dusting debris from her hands, Buffy slid her stake into her back jeans pocket. She turned and offered Spike a grin.

Before he could compliment her performance, a tall, thin man stepped into view and offered his opinion.

"Very impressive hunt," the man shared in a thick accent.

Buffy spun towards the voice. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Such power," the visitor complimented as he stepped closer.

Buffy shrugged. She could feel Spike moving swiftly to her side.

"Nothing special," the Slayer responded. "Was a vamp. Now he's dust. Wanna join him, Drac?"

The stranger frowned in confusion. He had not expected the Slayer to know who he was. Dracula was even more concerned when he realized that his target had been joined by William the Bloody. They had a history that didn't even come close to friendly.

"We're not going to fight," the European vampire smoothly stated as he moved closer. He slowly ghosted his gaze over the Slayer starting with her feet and ending with her face.

Beside her, Spike stiffened and hissed softly in obvious annoyance at the attention the insolent vampire paid to his date's assets. Those were his to enjoy and not on display for the riffraff's pleasure.

"So how are the Sisters?" Buffy asked as she reached a hand for Spike before he could do something stupid. Her strong fingers pressuring against his arm helped focus his churning emotions and allow a cooler head to prevail.

Again, Dracula appeared confused. Nothing about this confrontation was going as he expected. He had planned his seduction of Buffy Summers for quite some time and had hoped to snag her interest with his name and a bit of mystery. That the Slayer was already in the company of a powerful vampire put a slight kink in his works. This situation would require more consideration.

"I can see that you already have plans for the evening. Perhaps we will meet at another time," the arrogant vampire stated as he waved dismissively towards Spike.

"Sure. We can talk but you need to refrain from eating the populous. Bagged blood only for your visit or we will have words and not the kind you want to share."

Dracula stiffened at the restriction the Slayer had the audacity to place upon him. He sputtered in disgust.

"Bagged only," Buffy stressed as she slipped her stake from her pocket and twirled it in her hand. "For you and your traveling companions. I will have your word on it."

"Your silly stake cannot hurt me," he snottily informed her as he disregarded the unspoken threat in her display of manual dexterity.

"You're word, Drac, or I will be finding a bottle and you will be enjoying the sunrise. For at least the couple seconds before you dust."

Dracula stiffened. His eyes widened as he realized that the Slayer before him actually posed a threat to his life despite his mystical powers. Briefly, he wondered how she new such a thing. His eyes narrowed and he glanced quickly towards Spike. It was possible that William the Bloody had discovered his weakness and then shared the details with her although he wondered how the Slayer of Slayers would have learned that little tidbit in the first place. For that matter, he was incredibly interested in why a vampire who prided himself on killing slayers appeared to be on good terms with this one. This new development only served to increase his interest in the pretty blond slayer.

"You're word," Buffy pressed as she stepped towards the visiting vamp. Although she knew Dracula would not agree to drinking bagged blood, she hoped it would make a good starting point for some bartering.

"You would accept my word as truth?" Dracula asked with a hint of amusement and surprise in his voice.

"Sure," the Eternal One replied with a casual shrug. "You're all old world. Your word means something."

"Ah, you understand perfectly, my Killer," Dracula intoned with a slight and regal nod. "Very well. I give you my word. I will not hunt and kill in Sunnydale and I will ensure that my companions follow the edict also."

"No killing at all," Buffy stressed. She didn't want him twisting his word to mean he could thrall his way into a meal without remorse.

Impressed at her quick catch, Dracula flashed a bit of fang when he grinned.

"Catch and release?" he countered casually. Although he wouldn't enjoy it, he and his entourage could sustain themselves without killing for the time they were in Sunnydale.

"Leave them happy and healthy and you are fine."

The visiting Count chuckled then agreed. He promised to meet with her again when she was less occupied with minor matters. When Spike bristled again at the thinly veiled insult, Buffy soothed him by leaning against his body and giving him a quick hug around his waist.

In a blink of an eye, his body contracted and Dracula transformed into a bat. He spiraled in the air a few times before flying into the darkness.

Buffy groaned.

"Shades and Shadows that vamp is such a drama queen," she grumbled.

She felt Spike draw away from her. With her attention now on him instead of the long gone flying rodent, William glared at her.

"You knew Dracula," he accused.

Unsure why this would upset him so much, Buffy confirmed the fact.

Spike's coat flared around him as he spun away from his date. Without another word, he stomped away from her. Buffy rolled her eyes before running to catch up with him. It appeared that Dracula was not the only one suffering from the drama affliction.

They stalked silently through town until reaching Spike's crypt. When the angered vampire would have stormed into his home and slammed the door in Buffy's face, the Slayer caught hold of his hand. Although she didn't use her superior strength to halt his progress, her gentle touch caught his attention. He paused.

"Spike?" she called in an uncertain voice that cut through his anger and jealousy better than any amount of yelling would have. "What's wrong?"

He closed his eyes for a moment. Old pains pricked and nagged at his mind. They reminded him of how easily he was tossed aside. How easily he was forgotten. It was a lesson introduced to William as a human and slammed home by Angelus and Drusilla in his life as a vampire.

"You knew Dracula," he finally repeated. "You remember him. You barely remember Buffy Summers but you remember that poncy bastard?"

The Eternal One offered her insecure companion a gentle squeeze on his hand before asking if she could come inside and explain. Although unhappy about it, Spike nodded. He didn't trust himself to answer any other way. He knew his frustration and disgust would leak all over any conversation.

Buffy crawled onto the sarcophagus and watched at Spike fixed himself a mug of blood. His jerking movements betrayed his continued agitation so the Slayer tried to find the words to explain herself. She wasn't sure if Spike was actually listening to her but she needed to try. She didn't want him misunderstand and continue to be hurt.

"I do remember Dracula. It would be hard not to. He was one of the last. After the plague swept away humanity, vampires fell swiftly. There wasn't enough food to sustain them and most were unable to adapt properly to alternative food sources."

Buffy wove a tale of pockets of vampires who succeeded in keeping farm animals alive for their sustenance but they were never able to maintain the discipline needed for the long term. Something was missing from their lives. The Slayer believed that their demonic natures needed some form of hunt or violence to keep from losing their minds. They always ended up slaughtering their farms and their companions internally or falling victim to demon attacks. On the whole, vampires had more easily manipulated weaknesses compared to some of the more aggressive demon races.

At this point in her story, she noticed Spike's tension lessen. He moved across the room and settled on the opposite side of the stone casket. He didn't meet her eyes but she did know he was hearing what she was sharing. She smiled softly then returned to the tale.

"Dracula and the two sisters came to me some time after humanity fell."

"Three sisters," Spike corrected.

Buffy shrugged and admitted that there were only two by the time they approached her. She had not recollection of a third one. At least that was how she remembered the little vampire group.

"He proposed an alliance. They needed blood. I made blood. Wasn't like they could drain me to permanent death. I needed companionship. They offered friendship. It worked for a while. Not sure how long. Long enough that it made a lasting impression. I think... um... Marita? Yes, Marita died in some kind of attack on our compound. Her sister couldn't handle the loss and walked into the noonday sun. That left Drac."

"Were you lovers?" Spike asked quietly.

Buffy shook her head. She had never reached towards him in that particular manner.

"No. I was spiraling too far into my own head by that point. The whole bottle thing to kill Dracula was one of the last thing I remember doing before the crushing darkness that bled into the hell under the Dreski'an."

Buffy fell silent. Fearing that she was slipping into harmful memories once again, Spike set aside his empty glass and moved across the top of the sarcophagus. He pulled her into his arms and nuzzled against her neck. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she turned into the embrace.

"I'm sorry that I don't clearly remember you," the Eternal One whispered against his ear. "For what it's worth, I get flashes sometimes. Problem is that I'm not sure what has and hasn't happened already. Or even if they will given that I have utterly changed the world by returning like this."

An idea tripped through his mind. Chuckling, Spike lifted Buffy in his arms so that he could carry her to his chair. He wanted to be more comfortable. Settling in place with the Slayer snuggled into his lap, the vampire kissed the top of her head. His anger over Dracula had slithered away some time during her explanation.

"Think I can help with those memory questions," he offered as he settled back and shared his memories and impressions of Buffy Summers. They might be one sided and they might be tinged with early malice but it was the best he could do to help.

"So... any matches?" Spike inquired as he finally fell silent after sharing the saga of Buffy the Vampire Slayer versus Spike, Slayer of Slayers.

Buffy traced her fingertip over the palm of Spike's hand. It feathered over the lines as if she was reading his fortune. She ran her finger up to press against his matching tip.

"I was annoyed yet intrigued when you clapped," she admitted. It was only a flash but the emotional response was still linked to the flash somewhere in her mind. She pressed her middle finger against his also so they were joined at two points. "I remember a moment of surprise as you stood before me. I am guessing that was when you knocked out the policeman before we joined forces."

Spike nodded. She was most likely right.

Her ring finger met his as she described him standing at the foot of the stairway in her current home. She felt to empty and lost and he was looking at her as if the world had been laid at his feet.

"That one hasn't happened yet," Spike offered.

Buffy hummed and matched the pad of her pinky finger to his.

"I remember leaning against your chest with your arms around me, bit like you're holding me now, and feeling peaceful. I don't have a lot of peace in my life. Solitude and quiet, yes. True peace. Not so much."

"That one hasn't happened yet either, luv."

"I figured."

With a simple shift of her fingers, she was able to clasp her fingers down over his knuckles on the back of his hand. With their palms pressed firmly together, she tightened her hold until her joints in her hand whitened with the strain. Tears collected and trailed down her cheeks.

"Only one more floating around in there and I know it hasn't happened yet," she admitted before she pulled his hand tight against her stomach and turned her face into his neck. She would hide from that memory for a while longer. She fervently hoped it never came to pass. "That one... well, I think we can avoid that one for now. Neither one of us are ready to share it yet."

"You're most likely right," he confirmed as he considered her tears and the intensity of her grip. He shivered slightly then hugged her tighter.

"You know what I see in each of those memories?" Buffy mumbled into his shirt.

"A rather handsome bloke?"

As he intended, his comment pulled a giggle from Buffy.

"That too," she admitted as she dried her tears on his shirt. "But what I really saw? I saw you, seeing me. Those feelings that wash over me with those fleeting moments in time, no matter what my feelings are, you see me in that moment. You might not have liked me. You might have wanted to slam me against the wall and drain me dry. Other times, you might have felt love or affection. Doesn't matter. No matter what you were feeling, the important point was you were seeing me. And that makes me feel special now. Whether those moments have happened already or will in the future or maybe never come to pass, I figure you will go on seeing me. At least, I hope."

Silence fell in the crypt as they each considered their past relationship as well as their possible future one.

"Do you expect me to be a white hat?" Spike finally asked. "If we're going to make this work, then you'll want me to be good. Right?"

"I expect you to be yourself."

Spike frowned.

"I'm a vampire whose killed two slayers and hunted my way over most of the continents for more than a hundred years."

Buffy snorted.

"Yeah... okay... don't be that part of yourself. I don't want to dust you. I would hope that you will be yourself here and now not your past self. You're a vamp. Can't change that fact. But that is what you are not who you are."

Warmth spread through Spike's chest which had nothing to do with Buffy's body heat pressed against his skin. The sensation only grew stronger as the Slayer told him to read the poetry books hidden beside the sarcophagus, talk art with her mother, listen to obnoxious music much too loudly for sensitive ears, and fight demons with glee. A sharp prickle started at the back of his eyes which he chose to ignore as Buffy praised him for finding a life for himself despite his chip and despite the seeming lack of support from those who should have offered more than a safe place and chains.

He growled when she apologized for not offering him more when he came to them for protection and help.

"Don't apologize," he grumbled. "Wasn't you who did it."

"No... it was me. A much younger me but it was still me. From what you shared, you hurt me so I hurt you back. I understand why I did it even if I don't like it. I'm a vengeful person. No matter how old I become, that still remains. I may carry hope around with me but I also carry a desire to rend and tear and beat back the wrongness that I see. The emotion is still there. It's the interpretation of what is wrong that has been influenced by time. You deserve the apology."

"Do you expect me to apologize for trying to kill you?"

Shaking her head, Buffy told him no. She didn't expect to be his moral compass and she told him such. She expressed that she had enough problems being her own guide to right and wrong. She admitted that she doubted she did a very good job of it from most mortal perspective at this point. She spent too much time way from those mores and values.

"Unlike you though, I got no soul to help me, Slayer," he reminded her. "Can't really expect me to come over all good and proper."

Buffy tapped his forehead.

"You don't have a soul but you do have a mind. And a pretty impressive one despite all the bleach treatments and the unwanted brain surgery. Way I see it? A soul is a trapping for deity. I figure yours has already gone where its supposed to go. Your body and mind remained with your demon. Maybe it even takes the place of the soul. Not really sure. What I do know is that you use your mind to make decisions. To weigh consequences. To determine your path."

"We're not always gonna agree," he warned.

"Most likely not," Buffy agreed.

"Still wanna do this?"

"Most definitely," the Slayer responded as she shifted so she could wrap her arms around Spike's neck. She pressed a quick kiss on his cheek before moving back to the more comfortable position. She snuggled tightly and closed her eyes. A soft sigh of contentment escaped. She was exhausted and Spike made a comfy cushion. She had every intention of enjoying being in his arms.

"Slayer?"

"Hmm?" Buffy murmured. She was at the point when the mind follows the body into sleep.

"Do you think you could love me?" he asked quietly as insecurity poked and prodded at the warm contentment that filled his chest.

"I can see it," she mumbled as she allowed sleep to wash over her.

Spike listened to the slow, steady beat of her heart. He glanced at his hand clenched tightly in hers once more. A soft smile slid over his lips.

"I can see it too," he whispered against her hairline as he closed his eyes and embraced the fall.


End file.
